the Smiths are a close-knit family. they have no home, they are vagabonds… vagrants… squatters.
they may have lived by you, or with you.
you may have seen them.
they are renowned, the world over, for their heinous behaviour.
i remember the night they moved into my precinct.
from day one, they wreaked havoc with their host.
it is true: they target indiscriminately.
it is true: they are sociopaths. chameleons. changelings. shapeshifters.
they adapt to their new surroundings with unnerving ease.
and then they take over…
… and they almost always overstay their welcome.
if you let them in, they will destroy everything you love about life.
if you do not let them in, they will worm their way in
and destroy everything you love about life.
they arrived in small groups. by the end of the week, their host was overrun by them.
how could he get rid of these unwelcome guests?
he tried being patient. that did not work. they defied him, and continued to defile him.
he tried ignoring them. that did not work. they were ‘in his face’, with increasing aggression.
he tried evicting them. that did not work. they returned, in increased numbers.
they are breeders. every week, more and more of them seemed to appear.
i rarely saw them, but they made their presence known.
they became pandemic.
they became aggressive.
their host became inflammatory. incensed with rage like a fever. delirious. mad.
he could not sleep.
he could not eat.
he was tired.
he was ill.
the only way to fight fire is with fire.
we smoked them out.
and fired silver bullets.
we killed them.
we killed them good.
(c) Kat McDonald 2015
– a comedic view of a ‘family’ of flu pathogens, currently inhabiting my lover’s body.