Invasion

Writer's Cramp: Write a story/poem about a world overrun with bugs, especially the cicadas.

Flash Fiction: The Invasion

When the cicadas took over Los Angeles, I drove to Las Vegas. I thought the lights would keep bugs away. I forgot about the moths. They descended three days later, buzzing in circles around the Eiffel tower until they spun a web of wings that covered it from its pedestal to the top.

But then the frogs set out through the desert. They hopped in droves up and over the spiny cactus, dug into the coolness beneath the hot midday sun-heated sand, and became sturdier, leathery, and hugely muscled.

I was sitting in Harrah’s when the news about the frogs arrived. I overheard one of the cashiers telling a customer about the latest invasion. I stepped out to observe for myself. Hundreds of the critters were leap-frogging over each other, their tongues wagging back and forth like robot vacuum cleaners or flypapers, since each tongue retreated back inside, covered with tiny, winged carcasses.

Some of the frogs and toads appeared normal, although the green bullfrogs were twice as large as the average. There were a variety of others, including several warty toads, and even some red-speckled frogs that were either a new species or else badly sunburned. One of them jumped onto my leg and hung there, his tongue batting the air. I pushed him off and returned back inside.

I nodded my head, liking nature’s solution. Inside, I bought myself a cola and jiggled the ice cubes to make it colder as I changed the channel on the TV in the entry. I finally found a news station. (Most of the channels were apparently set to horse racing.) Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, and then Miami were all receiving the attention of newscasters. The bugs that had invaded and chased away people were being eaten up by armies of predators. In Miami the cockroaches were crocodile food. In Chicago swooping and diving flocks of robins took care of the clouds of mosquitoes. In New York, friendly garden snakes slurped up the fleas, and good old Los Angeles, scene of the great cicada invasion, was being completely overrun by sea gulls, munching and crunching.

Crowds of cheering people showed up next on the TV’s camera. I joined them, cheering just as loudly. Unfortunately that meant that I was kicked out of Harrah’s, but I didn’t care. Still cheering, I allowed myself to be dumped into the streets. Then dusting myself off, I happily got into my car and drove home.