Bed Bugs – Curse #868

Posted on April 26, 2011

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After a ten hour workday, stumbling up his stairs, like a curious fly to the trap, he hides under a thick collection of comforter and blanket and sheets — an amalgamation called Bed — while still wearing his suit.

Why don’t you take your shoes off, says Bed.

No, he says. I’m too tired. I like this.

But wouldn’t it feel nice if you took off your loafers and socks, if you felt the coolness of the sheets with your toes, says Bed.

I guess so, he says. He removes them and Bed is right, the coolness of the sheets feels nice on his skin.

Bed says, comfortable?

Very, he says. I am very comfortable.

Why don’t you take off your jacket and shirt, says Bed. You are going to get hot in here with all that clothing on.

I am feeling rather hot now, he says. He removes his jacket, tie, and shirt, never leaving the covers, just pushing them out as though they have been rejected.

Ah, says Bed. And your pants too?

The man says, why are you trying to get me naked? I’m starting to feel awkward. Vulnerable even.

I’m only trying to make you comfortable, says Bed. That is my job.

Where were you last night when I couldn’t sleep, says the man.

I was here, says Bed. You were someplace else though. You were not having anything to do with me. But now, after working so long with so little sleep, I believe you are more prone to my suggestions.

Maybe so, he says. He removes his pants and pushes them out from underneath the covers, hearing his belt hit the floor with a thud.

You smell nice, the man says.

I have recently washed, Bed says.

It’s nice, the man says. It suits you.

Thank you, says Bed.

As if in a cocoon, the man begins to sleep deeply, the sort of sleep that only those undergoing metamorphosis or the perpetually exhausted ever truly comprehend. For a moment Bed considers suffocating the sleeping man, after all, the man comes by so often to jabber the night away with nonsense, never sleeping, merely loitering. But the sinister feeling subsides and Bed too falls asleep, though not in such a pleasurable way. He suffers from feverish nightmares about insomniacs and bed bugs and the most severe beatings on the clothes line.

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