so perth

Pottering around with a cup of tea. A droning starts up outside. Construction. On a Sunday? I peer outside to find a grotesque fly man on the phone, wings listing happily in the summer breeze, drooling slightly from his gruesomely segmented mouthparts. He buzzes and spits.  “Yeah nah but that’s what I said to him. Straight down the freeway, great for the kids.” His compound eyes rove towards me and I pull back, shaking. I don’t think he’s seen me, but he’s stopped talking. The weirdest things happen when I’m on nights.