I needed more bugs to wake him, still more to write a message. I began drawing them up to his bedroom.
I might not have noticed it if I hadn’t been listening through the bugs.
Oh boy. What is it? Shatterbird’s “song”?
I primarily heard it through the moths and beetles, a sound like someone running their finger along the rim of a wine glass, painful to hear, only it kept getting sharper and higher pitched until it was well beyond the limits of anything my human ears could hear.
Yeeeah, here we fucking go.
It was coming from the windows.
There were enough bugs in place to wake up my dad. I could have disturbed him from his sleep… but would he react fast enough to any message I left?
Is she considering what I think she’s considering? That it might be kinder to let him go in his sleep?
Or would he sit up and put his head and upper body in harm’s way of the windows?
Okay, yeah, that’s a good point. He’d be making himself a bigger target and exposing vulnerable areas.
I couldn’t risk it. Instead, I took the bugs near him and threw them against his alarm clock, a miniaturized version of what I had attempted to do with the temporary fence.
Shaking it off the table? Ahh, right, glass display cover.
It was thin, a tilted capital ‘L’ shape with a digital display.
Huh, that’s an interesting shape for a clock.
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