Sapphic Voices General Fiction

Locusts

"Is the world really coming to an end?"

Aya asked the question of no one in particular as she sat up in the middle of the large bed, turning her head to stare at the windows as if she could see through the heavy curtains to the chaos that the TV reporter described. The Bay Area's news honey, Nedda Stone, was quickly replaced by the shot of a man running into a 7-11 to escape a shower of chattering locusts and blinding rain. Nedda's voice continued: "Many are referring to the unexpected appearance of the locust swarm as the Holy Rain -- a sign that the world is indeed coming to an end. Back to you, Thad."

At the prompt, an attractive middle-aged man appeared on the screen. He tapped his pen against the news desk and managed to look worried.

"Thanks Nedda. Now let's go to the weather bureau for an update."

The thick comforter fell away from Aya's shoulders as she reached over to nudge the stirring lump beside her.

"Did you hear that?" Maxine, her partner of nearly three years, blinked sleep-laden eyes at the television set. Less than a second later, she was wide awake, yawning and pulling at the covers. Her finely muscled brown body stretched and moved against Aya's softer one.

"Yeah. I heard the same thing yesterday too." Maxine rolled over to her stomach and moved aside the curtains. "It does look like the end of the world out there." The rain was coming down in sheets, screaming down from the sky and bringing with it hordes of locusts. Some of the insects were dead, beaten into the dirt by pellets of water, but a few had escaped to their porch and were hopping around on the rattan chairs and sliding across the wet tiles to nest in the potted plants farthest from the downpour. Maxine flinched away from the window as a grasshopper's broken body slammed into the glass before her face and slid to the ground in a pulpy green and brown mess.

"How can you just lie there and be so calm?" Aya trembled from her spot in the middle of the bed, forgetting for the moment that Maxine was always calm. Aya's voice lowered to a whisper. "Shouldn't we call the police or something?"

The curtains fell into place as Max rolled back into her warm spot. She used the remote to turn off the television before snuggling down into the pillows.

"What can they do? Squash the bugs? I think we should just stay put and wait for the storm to die down. Afterwards, who knows?" She slid her palm over Aya's foot. It was freezing. "Come back under the covers. You'll feel better."

After a moment's hesitation Aya joined her. They lay spoon fashion, with Max gently stroking her lover's stomach and murmuring softly against her ear. "Don't worry." She kissed her shoulder. "The house is locked up tight. Nothing's going to get in here."

Aya's trembling gradually lessened, then stopped altogether. She put her hand over Maxine's and closed her eyes. The two women lay in silence, listening to the steady growl of the wind and the slap of rain and tiny bodies against the roof.

F.V. Lewis' e-mail address is unavailable.

Click here for a list of all of F.V. Lewis'  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.