Short story: The moth

“Hey!” A voice interrupts her monologue, and she shudders at the thought of anyone seeing her like this. She is a shell of her former glory, a mere pebble awash in the tide of —

“Just what exactly do you think you’re doing? Get off the floor. Now.” The exasperated voice of her best friend once again cuts into her thoughts and she blinks, suddenly all too aware of her surroundings. He shoots her a glare and points at the clock. “It’s three in the morning.” 

She pushes herself off the floor and stands, registering the bruise forming on her right knee but keeping her eye on her target, undeterred. “It’s evil, I swear. I can feel it taunting me, and it won’t even let me eat my cereal in peace! I don’t know what to do in the face of such–” 

“It’s a moth,” he deadpans, shooting her a glare, and she’s suddenly all too aware of the ruckus she caused trying to shoo the moth outside. 

He readjusts the glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose and winces at the intensity of the light in the center of the kitchen around which the moth is flitting, entranced. He turns the light off, opens the door, and they both watch in silence as the moth immediately flits outside. “Seriously?”

She refuses to feel embarrassed. “In my defense, I’m only functioning at half my normal mental capacity at the moment .” She pours him a bowl and they sit on the table, forgoing chairs, savoring the taste of cereal in the dead of the night. 

“Okay, but the next time you decide to chase a moth in order to be able to finish your cereal at 3 a.m. try NOT to do it when we both have an internship in 8 hours.” 

“You say that like there’s gonna be a next time.”

“Is there?” 

“… Probably.”  

“That’s what I thought.” He smiles fondly at his best friend attacking her cereal as he eats his with a little more dignity.

“Don’t act all high and mighty, buddy. I still remember the spider incident.”

“That was one time!”

“The couch still has the burn marks to prove it~”

“One. Time.”