Flies from the Sun

no town will go to waste

The Gardener Vallier Paul Cezanne 1906 National Gallery of Art

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Every person has darkness. Mine just happens to be stranger than most.

This year, I decided not to leave with the others.

I will tell you what I saw. Once the sun was completely gone, fireflies appeared from the caves. I no longer needed a light source. Half of my preparation for nine weeks of darkness was now pointless.

My hope was that the legend about vampires was false. I wanted to be the one to tell the other townspeople that there was no reason to leave each year. I walked among the multitude of fireflies and barely recognized my hometown. It had been transformed into a dream of the longest night.

I had been coaxed out of my house where I had stockpiled supplies. My next surprise was the quickly growing dark limbed plants that began disturbing my soul. They spread throughout the streets, growing just tall enough for me to reach their fruit.

Taking a bite was not the most reckless thing I had done in my life. It tasted and felt like flesh and blood. I spit it out and let the ground puncture its heaviness.

I noticed the fireflies, or some such equivalent, were drinking the nectar from the fruits. They in turn grew heavy… and heavier… and heavier. Until the trees were pulled to the ground by the massive insects that unfolded legs and arms from their wings. And instead of bugs, strange people finally released the fruit and the trees straightened.

All around me were these strange metamorphoses. I rushed back into my house and locked the door. I couldn’t help but peek out of the windows. A festival of some kind was happening in my town.

The trees made the heavy fireflies into strange people, and those people pressed the strange fruit into a drink. I had never seen so many people without clothing. They drank the blood and were merry. I didn’t know if I would survive sixty-five days.

I stayed inside for a week before I decided to walk among them. I packed what I could carry, thinking I should skip town like the others. But they stopped me right away.

“Hey everyone, it is a human.”

Another person raised a cup of blood. “The luckiest human ever to live.”

I had to say something. “I am absolutely monstrous and terribly unlucky. I just need to get passed.”

“Humans say the funniest things when they think they are going to die. But don’t worry. This is the yearly festival of peace hosted by the fireflies. Every blood drinker from around the world is brought here so we can drink the blood of the already dead. We won’t hurt you. But since you are here. Do you mind pressing some of these blood fruits with your feet? Wow, that would be a real treat.”

I really couldn’t say no. He was nice enough. Although, it was awkward to be watched so intently while I bared my feet and stepped on their fruits. I wouldn’t necessarily call them foot fetishists.

They drank the blood pressed by my feet and were happy.

I celebrated with them for the remainder of my time in the dark. It was a wild time. I made many friends and I plan on visiting them in their home countries. The other townspeople always joked that I would be the last to leave. Who knew the very act of staying would send me across the world to experience all manner of hosts. I am the luckiest human, after all.