(While part 1 chronicled the life long obsession of her husband's animal kills, part 2 zones in on Destiny's own need for blood... duh nu nu!)
Still. Not a movement, not a blink. I sat there motionless, without feeling or remorse. I live in a land of no screens and many horses, a recipe for disaster. The flies are everywhere. Some may think me a barbarian, but it's just a way of life. Survival, if you will. I don't even think the fly saw it coming. My pink swatter of choice came down with such force the dead fly flew across the room and into a bowl.
"3!" I cried. My son cheered. I was proud. I had passed on a heritage I knew he would not part from. It's in his blood- The ruthless and relentless hunt for the blood of the flies. "Remember your record?" he asked with excitement. Of course I remembered. How Could I forget?
"21," I said with a smile.
"I don't think you're gonna break any records today, " he said almost in a challenge.
SMACK! BAM! "4...5!" I said as I snuffed the life from my foe. "We will see about that."
They may be fast, they might have the moves, but they haven't met: The Lord of the Flies!
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