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Kimberley A Sher

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Member Since: Jun, 2009

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When Mosquitos Bite
By Kimberley A Sher
Friday, July 03, 2009

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Recent stories by Kimberley A Sher
· The Mourning Window
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There are many ways to end a marriage. Follow one man's decision and discover how love bites!






He cautiously gazed at the clock. Twenty- five to one it diligently reported. In the moonlight he could see his wife's profile perfectly. His mind wondered back to a happy, ignorant time of life and love. He remembered when he thought his wife was the most incredible thing on earth. How honored he was to hear her say, "I do." Hours upon hours, he would watch her sleep worried she might stop breathing. A mosquito hovered and buzzed around his head. He blindly swatted without success. Twenty minutes to one. His anticipation beamed across his face. He nervously began to perspire. BUZZ...BUZZ...BUZZ... "Damn mosquito!” he cursed in a whisper. TICK, TICK, TICK.
He looked at his wife carefully now. She looked so peaceful asleep upon his chest. She looked like she felt so safe in his arms. He gently moved his hand across her chest, feeling her breasts, her now large wobbly stomach, her larger and wider than life bum, her rounded shoulders, and her even rounder thighs. BUZZ....BUZZ...BUZZ.... TICK, TICK, TICK.
Never had time passed so slowly. His heart quickened from the stress. Suddenly it happened again. The anxiety became intolerable. It was his wife's head that bothered him the most."God- Damned, mosquito!” He looked at her head as though it we not attached to her body. He saw it now as a separate blob of metabolism that was bleached, foul, loud, wrinkled. It was awful, even unbearable. The very sight of the bleached blob was absolutely repulsive to him. He quickly yanked his arm from beneath the weight of the most sickening thing next to death. How he hated her. Hated her screaming, hated her new clothes, her new nail polish, her ear wrenching laugh, the way she now waddled, and smoked, the clack-stick sound of her dentures. He even hated the smell of her, of her actual body, the actual air that she used gnarled his stomach into knots that would ache for hours on end. Yes, indeed! He would rejoice to be rid of her. Again he looked over to the clock. How his stomach ached with the nervous tension. In only ten minutes he would be a new man. In only nine minutes, he would have the best sleep in years. BUZZ...BUZZ...BUZZ... TICK. TICK. TICK.
Again he swatted unsuccessfully. How irritating during what could and would be the happiest night of his life. His chest ached. He perspired and waited, and waited and waited.
Five more grueling moments to ecstasy. Five, four, three, two…
Suddenly, his heart seized. He sat up abruptly. He gasped for breath, for air! He could feel his throat burning in relentless futile attempts to breathe.
He fell back into his pillows, hand upon his chest, unable to move. But the poison. His wife...she should be ...
RRRRIIINNNGGG! The alarm clock sounded. In his deep pain he could hear that awful voice sarcastically make noise as it formed its question.
"Having a little heart attack, are we?" The female thing he had married so long, ago sat up in bed calmly, lit a cigarette, extended her hand in front of her while she examined her nails intently. Blowing a puff of smoke across his face, she turned on the light by their bed.
"I mean really darling, we could have divorced, but you’re right, this is far more fun." She had known the whole time. He now approached the moment before death when breathing stops and only consciousness and senses remain. If he could have laughed, he would have. Through the smoke that mockingly floated by him, he could hear her ear wrenching voice laugh. She had been awake the whole evening.
He could see the mosquito as it landed on his forehead. BUZZ..BUZZ...
"Oh, here darling, let me get that for you."
Buzz... bite.. splat.. silence.


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