Of Death and Flies and Summer
by d.r. sanchez

The buzzing is back
Fruit flies invade the kitchen
Honey on a little plate
Wine vinegar in a small cup
My desire to kill is strong

Damned little flies make my head spin
Make me gag

Like the summer of flies
The summer the fire-red sunset
Laced its way through the curtain of flies on my bedroom window

The summer I cried myself to sleep most nights
The summer before senior year of high school
The summer my Irish Setter exploded internally after a botched procedure
The summer of divorce
The summer of death

Of my dog
Of the two hundred and seventy-seven flies I smashed on my window
Of my parent’s marriage
Of childhood

AUTHOR’S PHOTO CAPTION: With Grandma and Mom, at Grandma’s (1978).

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Sometimes a thought or memory refuses to let me sleep until I coerce it to page. Other times I must delve deep to find it. All too often the fleeting flickers of the ones I most cherish vanish. This particular piece haunted me off and on for decades. It began as an essay to purge a lingering ache. A friend from my writing group insisted that it was something more. After some sleepless nights I was able to face the flies again.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Debra Sanchez has moved over 30 times and has lived in five states in two countries…so far. She leads and attends various writing groups in the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, area and also hosts writing retreats. Her writing has won awards at writers conferences in various genres, including children’s stories, poetry, fantasy, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Several of her plays and monologues have been produced and published. Other works have been published in literary magazines, newspapers, and anthologies. Visit her blog, and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.