Istanbul Literary Review - September 2011 Edition (#21)
Istanbul Literary Review - September 2011 Edition (#21)
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Ladybugs are Good Luck
by
Cortney Bledsoe

I was eating cookies in the kitchen at 2 a.m. when I found a dead ladybug on the plate. One of the cookies was half-eaten. I was sitting in my office, scratching my head when I found a dead ladybug in my hair. I noticed a bald spot forming. No one in my family is bald. Dead ladybugs clogged the sink when I tried to shave, making the sink overflow. A ladybug fluttered behind the shower curtain then stopped. I couldn't find my dandruff shampoo when I tried to wash my hair. When I laid in bed, my pillow crunched. It kept me up all night.

My wife says lady bugs mean good luck. The old woman across the hall was attacked by a gang of ladybugs. They stole her walker and pushed her down the stairs, but we live on the first floor, so she only fell two steps. Still, it was traumatizing. A group of ladybugs posing as foreign investors bought our apartment building. They said we had sixty days to vacate. We waited for two hours for the movers, but they never showed. Later, we went downstairs to investigate and found their van, abandoned. There were no traces of a struggle. When the police arrived, we could see hundreds of tiny wings poking out of their uniforms, and they buzzed when they spoke. We refused to open the door.

We haven't seen any of our neighbors for days. The building stinks of rotten meat. We sneak out in the middle of the night and head north because ladybugs don't like cold. Abandoned cars litter the streets, full of millions of tiny husks but no people. We take turns sleeping so we can keep driving. At rest stops, we pump gas with the engine running. There are no people to pay so we don't. We hit Alaska and still no people. We stop the car to rest and regroup. That night, we hear the sound of wings, millions of wings buzzing. We abandon the car for a SnowCat and drive until we can't hear their wings anymore. My wife says she never much liked people anyway. We both laugh a long time, then we pull over to sleep.

In the morning, I will notice my wife buzzing when she thinks I'm not paying attention. I'll wait till she goes to use the bathroom, then I'll leave.

Istanbul Literary Review - September 2011 Edition (#21)
Cortney L. Bledsoe
Cortney Bledsoe
United States
CL Bledsoe has work in over 150 literary journals including Nimrod, Margie, The Cimarron Review and 42 Opus. His first collection, Anthem is forthcoming from Cervena Barva Press this fall. He is an editor for Ghoti Magazine http://www.ghotimag.com
Istanbul Literary Review - September 2011 Edition (#21)