If you didn’t know it was there, you wouldn’t know it was there. Cars clipped along the road bringing Aunt May to the doctor’s office, getting Uncle Willy another case of beer or letting Sally and Bree meet up with the Lockstone brothers for a moonlit walk. Cinder Willoughby knew it was there, so when he saw the mammoth oak tree that was struck by lightning a few years back, he pulled his car over to the side of the road and got out. Willoughby walked around the car, stretching his legs in a kind of Nazi goosestep manner, before reaching into the trunk and dragging out some water sampling equipment. It was not the first time Willoughby worked for Beaver County, they liked his work and he their pay. With gear in hand, he followed a winding path used by the locals that came out to a peaceful stream where Willoughby would dutifully take ten water samples that he would later analyze for purity, clarity and the like.

As he worked, Willoughby was joined by two older fellas who were collecting frogs along the stream’s edge. The were friendly, jovial characters who regaled Willoughby with stories from around the county. One story in particular peaked Willoughby’s interest: The two were out joy riding in their father’s Duster…early July…no late June…oh, about 1967…they seen a bright light up ahead…over in the field…when they got close up…a naked man was walking down the road…about twenty…little younger…picked him up and drove him to town…soes he could get some clothes…said his name was Niles…maybe it was Miles…


It was a special holding facility, you needed a specific key card to gain entry, you were required to sign in at a registry book and all cell phones and electronic devices were to be left on a stainless steel table located inside the main entrance. Once inside, a long hallway drenched in flickering florescent light guided you to an utterly dark room where the one thousand moths were kept. It was William’s turn to do the four hour check on the captives, and when he entered the room and threw the switch that activated the soft red lights all seemed well in the ‘moth room’.

Relief came at 7 AM in the form of agents Jones and Brown who would take over the monitoring duties until noon when INSECT’s chief chemist was to take charge. Jones was the first to hit the all-stations alarm when he realized at the 7:15 inspection the moths were in the middle of escaping outside through a hole created by a squirrel many months earlier and apparently never fixed by the maintenance department.

A quick thinking Brown ran to his car and got a drone into the air and began following the moths. The normally erratic flying insects flew in a near perfect triangular formation with a single moth leading the way until they descended over a small stream and landed on a rather ordinary looking rock.



Author: whatitiswhatitisnot

Member of Camerauthor, a cooperative that writes on the blog What It Is/What It is not. Our membership includes a fantasy writer, a general fiction writer (Ellie) and two amateur photographers. All photos on the blog belong to Camerauthor.

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