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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue of cc&d (v234) (the July 2012 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:

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Order this writing in the book the Mission (issue edition) cc&d 2012 collection book		get the 228 page May - August 2012 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

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I wake up with my nose in Kafka’s dungbeetle

Fritz Hanilton

    I wake up with my nose in Kafka’s dungbeetle. I am a mosquito, & when Kafka wants to question our relationship, it’s serious. The dungbeetle explains to Kafka that she’s pregnant, & breaking up with me would leave the child fatherless. Kafka says when the father is a mosquito, it’s better for the child to have nothing to do with him, leaving my nose limp & depressed. Kafka, thank Jesoo, retires to his castle, & we’re free to marry or not. I take Franz seriously. Maybe a mosquito is not capable of raising a kid that pops out of a dungbeetle. Maybe the little bastard is best off fending for himself, & I should keep my nose out of his business. It’s a jungle out there, & mosquitos thrive in the jungle, but a dungbeetle is better off in a toilet where he’s closer to the dung.
    “Darling,” I say, “Kafka has got a point.”
    “Not like your point,” she says defensively.
    “But we’re really entirely different, love. How can a mosquito & a dungbeetle form a lasting, mature relationship? It’s like me marrying a hippo.”
    “You have something against my hips?”
    “Of course not. You have lovely hips. But what will our neighbors think when we try to take a walk together? They probably won’t allow us to move into their neighborhood. They’ll fear their property value will collapse.”
    “My god, mosquito! You talk like we’re African Americans invading a Polish community in the 60s.”
    “I don’t care what date it is. They’ll try to step on you, & for me they’ll bring out the swat team. They’d rather spray the entire city than keep us around.”
    “Oh, we dungbeetles will be around long after them. That doesn’t go for nosy mosquitos like you.”
    “See, we’re already fighting, & we’re not close to being married.”
    “You make any more comments about my hips, we’re even farther away from getting married!”
    “It wasn’t about your hips. It was about hippos.”
    “I know what you really meant.”
    Oh, Lord, Kafka knew more about dungbeetles than he’d put in a story. I hear the sirens. They’re coming to get me. I can’t wait around for the swat team. I buzz on out of there.

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