Little Larvae of Joy

I’d felt rotten for weeks and didn’t know why.

That morning it was a rush to the bathroom and I just made it. I hurled into the toilet.

I brought up three worms; each ten inches long, they were all translucent green and curled smugly round the bowl.

Claire bounded up the stairs and peered down.

‘I knew it,’ she purred. ‘I thought I recognised the symptoms, but didn’t want to tempt fate by saying anything.’

I looked across at Claire. Her antenna twitched and her gossamer wings had never looked so beautiful.

‘You’ll make a great dad,’ she said.