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Rated: E · Fiction · Animal · #2257184
Daily Flash Fiction 8/25/21 W/C 226


I enlisted the help of a broom. Then I found the Swiffer. Then the vacuum.

“Get out of my house!”

The bat continued to fly about. It desperately searched for an exit. Back and forth, up and down. It flew without direction, it seemed.

“It’s going to land in your hair. It’ll lay eggs and make you crazy!” John yelled as he wielded the Swiffer.

“No, I heard if one gets in, someone dies. It won’t be me!” Millie found a fishing net. She tried to catch the bat.

The bat flew around for a time more. Then suddenly it landed on the steps going to the upstairs.

Little Johnny went up to it.

“Don’t touch it! It might have rabies,” I ordered.

“No, mom, look! It’s just a baby.” He held out his hand. The little bat crawled onto it. Little Johnny looked into its eyes. “So little, so cute.”

“Whatever, out it goes! Bats are not good luck. Out. Now!”

So Little Johnny walked carefully to the front door. He went outside to the porch where he let the bat fly away.

“Now go wash those hands. No telling what germs it carried.”

We all settled down, put away the weapons. Then we settled into the nightly routine. Baths, nighttime stories. Then quiet.

Sleep came with a cost that night. The funeral is Wednesday.

W/C 226
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