Microfiction Day 112 – ‘Divine Punishment’

When the flies appeared she blamed windows thrown open against the heavy warmth of summer. She closed them all, turned off all the lights.

But still the flies remained.

She thought it might be the bins so she hit them all with bleach, gagging at the heavy chemical perfume as she scrubbed them clean.

But still the flies remained.

She thought it might be a mouse dead in the walls, the flesh rotting from the thin, fragile bones. With a hammer in her hand she readied herself for the first strike.

But then the frogs fell from the sky.