I got bit by an insidious flower bug
while eating a vegetable quesadilla
at Uncle Julio’s. The needle prick
from the bug’s beak left me looking
down at its microscopic marigold
body in disgust. With each swat,
it tumbled, a small lump forming
on the back of my hand. The tiny
pirate of an insect was insistent,
feasting on a fajita of my flesh
rather than it’s usual appetizer
of aphids and thrips. The critter
crawled into my doggy bag with
an admirable persistence, a secret
stowaway in search of something
more. My puppy nursed my bite
with her tender tongue, the bug
resuming its flight as a clandestine
traveller of the summer sun.

Melissa studied Creative Writing in both undergrad and grad school. Primarily a fiction writer, she has a handful of short stories, poems, and art pieces published both online and in print. When she isn’t writing or painting, she’s playing with her dogs or reading about astrology.