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Odds and Ends No. 28

On Monday, I was tired, but
wanted to walk Thunderbird
even so. The brilliant yellow

bushes weren’t as brilliant.
So, the hovering vampire bugs
were fewer in number. They

hovered around me for one
final assault because they
know that I know their secret.

They don’t bite or touch, as a
rule. So, what is the rule? I
may know the truth about

these little buggers and that is
why I call them vampire bugs.
(Don’t know what they are

called for real.) The rule: hover
while it is light and bite after
sunset. You see, after sunset

is when they take on human-
like form. Their two black wings
drape down covering them in a

stylish cape. While their two
white wings form a thin metallic
tube that runs from the sides of

their little vampire heads to the
front of their saw-like mouths
to become razor-sharp eye teeth.

Now you know why these parks
close at sunset. I’ve never met
anyone who hiked after dark,

(and live to tell about it), have
you? As the yellow flowers fade
away, so will these hellish bugs.

I walked an hour later than I
normally do. Closer to sunset
than I intended. I thought I heard

someone (or something) walking
behind me. The sound of at least
two or three. I’d stop, turn, look.

Nothing. No one. I heard the
crunch on the rocks again.
Nothing. I thought it must be my

protecting angels! The sun fell
behind the mountains to the
west. I picked up my pace to

the parking lot. My car and one
other. I thought I heard screams
beyond the ridge line behind me.

As I drove north past the parking
lot I noticed the other car was gone
and the park closed at sunset.

I reminded myself that I believe
in angels and drove home. “How
was your walk, Honey?” “Great.”

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as:


Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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