Serenity reigned in Vincent and Jane’s room until the day that insect coughed.
With nowhere to go, Vincent and Jane, as they usually did, sat on opposite ends of the room staring at the playful light and shadows on the wall.
A stealthy fly attached itself to their window. It made no sound— until the slightest resonance escaped its mouth. Vincent shifted his eyes from the wall the window.
“That fly coughed,” said Vincent.
“It certainly did not,” said Jane. “Flies do not cough.”
“This fly did.”
“No, it did not.”
“I’m telling you that it did. Just wait. It will cough again.”
They watched the fly on the window waiting for it to cough or not.
The fly rubbed his legs together and watched the two people watching him, waiting for him to cough. The fly felt a tickle in his throat. The tickle was nearly unbearable for the fly but he refused to cough. He was a fly and he would not give them the satisfaction.
Matthew is a writer and teaching-artist from Milwaukee, WI. Besides theNewerYork, you may have seen his work in Four and Twenty Poetry, Paragraph Planet, Postcard Shorts, The Eunoia Review or in the stalls of freeway rest stops. His play Walk, Don’t Walk was recently produced by Pink Banana Theater. Matthew is also a screenwriter and independent filmmaker. His latest film is a coming-of-age feature titledNeptune produced by Last House Productions and scheduled for release in June 2014. Matthew hopes to one day live in a world where bios are no longer necessary.