Shoo Fly

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Barb Schoen stood at her kitchen counter and cursed the house flies buzzing around her head. It was always this way come August: long, hot, miserable days filled with the buzzing of black, sticky flies and only the hope of a cool shower to revive her. It made her wonder why she’d ever claimed that summer was her favorite season.

She must have had temporary amnesia at the time. In addition to the fly invasion, her nosey Aunt Lydia always insisted on visiting for two solid weeks during the doggiest of days. The old woman complained continually, especially about Barb’s cooking. The way Aunt Lydia fussed and picked at her food drove Barb crazy. It didn’t matter what she prepared, it never met with her aunt’s approval. Going out wasn’t the answer either. Aunt Lydia had a million ways to embarrass Barb in a restaurant. Barb still couldn’t face the staff at her favorite Mexican place, even years later.

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