Fiction

I am taunted by the God of the flies

I am taunted by the God of the flies. At least, I was. I heard Him whisper in every malignant drone past my ear, and laugh at every fruitless swipe.  

I first knew there was such a deity at a young age. From then on, every time I heard or saw His creatures, His voice would get a little louder, a  little more insistent. Eventually, I took precautions. I don’t see too many people these days, but that’s OK. At least I don’t have to listen to that bastard in here. 

Getting in here took cunning, I must tell you. I had to convince a great number of people that I was crazy. It isn’t easy for any sane individual to play the madman. There were times when I thought that even  I might be going crazy, but then I remembered my purpose, and my mind returned to its usual clarity. Like I said, clean, sterile and definitely insect-free. I don’t see anyone in my saferoom, but I don’t hear Him laughing, either

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