mite studies

Colossal whatever. Tiny whatever. Breathalizer test–I did OK. It gave me  something like a B+. My first novel was about a league of mites who started a sex colony in a suburban forest. That’s the whole first part — graphic mite sex, mite betrayal, mite weeping, illegitimate mite babies, etc. It’s more like a prologue. Written with grand, pseudo-Greek mythic drama. The rest of the book is about a middle-school girl, who will grow up to be a major entomologist, who finds the colony and studies it. She writes up her findings and wins first prize in the science fair. One of the judges, a science teacher at a middle school the “next town over,” [CLICHE ALERT!——Ed] falls deeply in love with the girl. He’ll never act on it — he’s a responsible adult, there’s never any question — and the novel gives us lots of his internal anguish about feeling such profound romantic love for the girl, how brilliant her report was, how cute she is, etc. This section ends with the teacher’s suicide. He imagines that the girl doesn’t remember him at all, and obliquely implies as much in his suicide note. But then in the next section [WHO CARES ABOUT THESE SECTIONS? SHUT UP——ED] the novel reveals that the girl was actually deeply affected by the science-fair citation the teacher wrote for her. She googled him and found his blog, and read between the lines of his oblique bloggy flash-fiction that he’s in love with her. So she’s actually devastated when the teacher kills himself——and he’ll never know! Like the teacher, the girl is far too responsible and healthy and well-adjusted to ever have even considered an affair with someone more than one grade older than she is, to say nothing of an actual adult, but nonetheless, she’s fallen “head over heels” in love with him. The girl grows up and goes to Yale to study ticks and lice and other mites [YOU MIGHT BE ASKING FOR AN IRATE COMMENT FROM MICROECOS OR CHELSEA HERE, JUST SAYING. COULD BE WORTH ANOTHER TRIP TO WIKIPEDIA IF YOU HAVE TIME——ED] and dates a bunch of “really cute guys,” v-neck t-shirts, broad smiles, sunglasses—most of them fellow scientists. But then she ends up falling in love with and eventually marrying an English major. His name is Tom, and, as she goes on to her massive success in the field of mite research, he publishes sexy literary thrillers about hot entomologists. “The end”

6 thoughts on “mite studies

  1. did you really have to take a breathalyser? I think that if there was a breathalyser attached to your laptop the internet would be x1000 times worse. or maybe not changed, who gives a shit about your bac?

  2. thanks for saying so, neil. I was just riffing: there is no alcohol, there is no breathalyzer.

    Stop being weird, truffles.

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