The Moth Duchess

You've heard this story: it's the one that begins, When that April with her showers , moth-spraying, and cyber-snooping, with her table conversation, falling houses and secret codes...

Yesterday the Love Bug stung a week-old watchdog, and took time.

The Love Bug or Moth Duchess was leader of a criminal narrative organization. Her stories could kill, and her body was plutonium. The Duchess was banned from the Pentagon after the mayor tried to kiss her hunch. The duchess visibly stiffened, sliding a narrative into her leather holster.

Federal sources said the Moth was mulling a story virus. Residents were advised to evacuate.

Black ink showers. The smallest drop has encrypted stories which can kill, bite-sized portions of mortality. Beaches were running out of water as 3500 Canadian Geese watch helplessly

Highly decorated marine wildlife demand that we decode encrypted stories. They say, "What does it mean?" Geese went door to door, urging people to hand over the Duchess. I close the doors of my fortress-like condominium. I am divided. I look at the mirror and say, "What does it mean?" But it is not an interesting question.

The mirror divides me.

The falling houses crash into the black waters. People watch Ebay. A is OL. Software makers crunched the numbers in a sexual manner. Mortality is a more interesting story. After years of leading separate lives, I hire a hitman to kill me. I said I was willing to take extreme measures to protect the story.

Log. Ball. Narrative. Hitman. Words that raise our angst. But you can't keep pointing fingers at the story, at 50 mph wind gusts hurling ink at our windows. Our own hands are black with ink. Stories collect signatures, 2, 20, 2000 signatures. People who can't write are seen making an X with crossed arms. We tell these stories ourselves. They are repeated so often that they become explosives.

The duchess comes to me close-up and perilous. Her hands probe my jackpot. "Devour me," I said. We did narrative lines. Our hands were inaccurately described. We referred we quoted we mentioned. We kill time.

A picture is now estimated at 363 million words. But we know what a story does. Boom.

The duchess pulled the trigger with a breath-taking "Oops."

Even this is a story.