The Mosquito

I’m trapped inside the bathroom,
The lights are off and there’s a foul smell around here somewhere.
Oh how I wish the window was open but it is bolted from the outside
And I don’t know what to do now.

The Sunday is leisurely passing me by,
Everyone is quite happy and content with their lives.
The lunch has been served at the big, brown dinner table,
And the family has gathered around to have a sumptuous meal.

I cough up some blood; everyone stops and stares for a while.
I excuse myself and go into the bathroom to wash my face,
I stand there thinking about someone who used to stay nearby
but now she stays away; we’re miles apart.

I can here the buzzing sound,
It is still here somewhere,
I open the bathroom door and windows,
And then I return infront of the mirror to see my face replaced with a long black pipe of some kind.

I can’t speak. I can’t call out to anyone outside. I’m hapless right now.
All that I hear is a buzz and then I realize I’m the one making that annoying sound.
I lock myself inside the bathroom, I know there’s no way out.
And then I see it flying out the window;
I cannot grasp it in the palm of my hands.

The mosquito flies out. Smiling at the irony left behind.

©theblackcurse

Inspired by Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka.