One night when I was going to bed, I saw about four little live dots crawling about on my floor. It was dark, so I could not see them in great detail. I pulled the chain on my lamp, all of them immediately buzzing to life and flying toward my ceiling fan.
CHK
CHOK
CHK
CHOK
A subtle clicking noise popped up every now and then. It took me time to realize what the sound was. I figured it out. The little bugs were getting chopped into pieces by the whirling fan-blade.
edited 27th Jan '13 7:41:29 PM by Higginbid
IS THAT ME? AM I THE MOM?Yes, Rivux. It is. And it keeps getting harder and harder not to step on one of them in the dark. On your bare feat. They stick to the bottom of your foot, you know. The corpses keep piling up. And all through the night, the only sound next to the quiet ticking of the downstairs clock is ladybugs. Ladybugs getting slung all around my room. Ladybugs. Ladybugs. Ladybugs.
It doesn't end there.
edited 27th Jan '13 7:46:52 PM by Higginbid
IS THAT ME? AM I THE MOM?Theres's a fireplace downstairs. The heat travels up to my room, and the fan distributes it.
And just about three days ago, I checked the windowsill. There are more now. Lots more. And this time, most of them are alive. Even the bench next to them has the tiny little things on it. I tried to sit on it recently, almost squishing a ladybug.
But now, they're on my bed. And my table. On the shelf. The dresser. The AC-unit. Everywhere.
All. Over. My. Room.
And you know what?
edited 27th Jan '13 7:53:52 PM by Higginbid
IS THAT ME? AM I THE MOM?

Oookay, close enough.
CONTEXT: Hig's traumatic Ladybug based story.
edited 27th Jan '13 7:36:50 PM by LatverianBadger
"Shake the dust." - Anis Mojgani