Moths to a Flame

“What specifically is a moth ball, and should one be surrounded by so many of them in such a small space?” she ponders.

“Meemaw! Are moth balls related to asbestos?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Oh, no,” she groans.

As her skin begins to crawl and her lungs begin to implode, she finds an unmistakable Tiffany & Co. creme blue box.

Instantly forgetting her brush with death, she opens the ring size package.

She gasps and runs to show her grandmother the unexpected treasure.

Meemaw opens the box, pales, drops it to the counter, and quickly leaves the room without looking at or speaking to her.

Her granddaughter follows her to the hall, where she finds Meemaw weeping soundlessly against the wall nearest the kitchen.

“Caroline, call your-”

She gasps and falls.

She never sees her awake again.

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6 thoughts on “Moths to a Flame

  1. The weirdest thing happened last night, just as I finished ‘Moths to a flame’. It is the middle of the raining season here & lots of insects converge at the slightest glimmer of light. We have the most epileptic public power supply in the entire west coast of Africa, even though we are by far the wealthiest in the sub-region. So there was I, sitting an arms length away from my glowing candle & reading your latest post. So I read that powerful ending & tried to visualise the exit of life from a resisting soul when presto… A Moth actually flew into my candle flame!

    Now how weird is that!

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