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The Face                                                                                             
						by Les Lea
Another early 
						morning and already James is feeling angry and 
						resentful. Ever since the unknown virus had entered his 
						body and more or less disabled him he’s been getting 
						angrier and angrier by the minute… even when asleep his 
						dreams were all about him angrily doing something.
The doctor’s 
						regular visits over the past eight weeks had also 
						angered him. The man was an absolute buffoon. What the 
						hell did it mean - he didn’t know what the problem was? 
						How could they not find something out from the seemingly 
						never ending supply of blood that was taken from his 
						veins? Was everyone at the damned testing lab 
						incompetent?
James had woken 
						up eight weeks ago and found he could hardly move. His 
						legs and arms were paralysed even though the rest of his 
						body worked as normal. This had become a constant source 
						of frustration for him. At twenty eight years old he had 
						the normal urges a young man in his prime would have and 
						as blood flowed to his penis he was thwarted in any 
						attempt to relieve himself. 
The catheter 
						they attached to take away his strangely greenish piss 
						had done little to interfere with what became almost 
						constant hard-ons. This wasn’t the cause of his angry 
						frustrations but it certainly didn’t help. Then, because 
						of a rather nasty infection the catheter was removed and 
						he had to entertain the idea, as a twenty something, of 
						wearing a nappy. He hated that piece of material. The 
						nurses manhandling, the embarrassment of a stiff cock 
						and not being able to do a thing about it, but worst of 
						all was lying around in a wet and messed in nappy... 
						just waiting. 
The nurse had 
						obviously been in while he was still asleep and left a 
						cup of tea on the bed side table… but of course he 
						couldn’t reach it and knew he’d have to wait for her 
						return so he could have the cup cradled to his lips as 
						he sipped the lukewarm beverage. He’d tried to talk the 
						old nurse into giving him a wank but she had retreated 
						embarrassed and threatened to leave seven weeks ago. So 
						now she only spent time with him when meals were to be 
						taken, the doctor arrived, some medical exam or her 
						sanitary obligations had to be performed. She had taken 
						badly against James and saw her job of bringing relief 
						to the suffering of those patients in her charge to be 
						only medical and not recreational. Although performed 
						with efficiency she completed each and every change with 
						as little eye contact as possible.
Once he’d 
						returned from the hospital where the array of talented 
						doctors had to admit to being baffled by this mysterious 
						complaint James had spent the last eight weeks lying in 
						his bed unable to move. Unbeknown to him, a few were of 
						the opinion that it was something that was mental and 
						his ‘virus’ was the product of his own imaginings. He 
						had told them that on the night when this strange 
						condition had taken hold of his body he had dreamed of a 
						great wasp-like thing stinging him at the base of his 
						spine and he’d woken sweating uncontrollably, in fear, a 
						soaked bed and crying but unable to move. He had managed 
						to scream for help but living alone it had taken a 
						couple of days for anyone to hear is cries for 
						assistance. So he’d had to live in his own piss and 
						excrement for all that time, it was a situation he 
						wouldn’t have wished on anyone.
Now each night, 
						and completely frustrated at having to rely on anybody 
						else, the man who was a champion squash player… well in 
						his works league at least… and on the front row of the 
						local amateur rugby club… he wore the shirt with pride… 
						fell asleep and his head spun with those weird dreams 
						that occupied his nocturnal thoughts. It’s strange but… 
						well… never had his dreams seemed more real. Never had 
						such a strange and disparate selection of extraordinary, 
						connived and utterly stupid electrons fused together in 
						his brain to produce a panorama of madness and mayhem. 
						Each dream seemed to outdo the last. He both feared and 
						looked forward to his eyes closing and the dream 
						merchants bringing on unbidden the bizarre and exotic… 
						with the occasional erotic thrown in to seemingly mock 
						him for what he was now unable to do.
*
He shouted for 
						the nurse. The cup of tea was cooling quickly and he 
						hated drinking cold tea. He’d learned that his requests 
						to his nurse for anything normally fell on deaf ears 
						until it suited her… she had her own routine and she 
						wasn’t going to let the fact that he was paying to be 
						cared for interfere with that. Even his nappy was only 
						changed when it suited her. James hated the bitch but 
						had come to rely on her.
He gazed out of 
						the window. It faced north so never actually got much 
						sun coming full into his room but this particular early 
						spring morning was glorious. He could see out into the 
						fields and the morning sun lit them up to bring out the 
						new green buds on the trees awakening from their 
						winter’s hibernation. If he wasn’t in his usual bad mood 
						he may have quite enjoyed the view… even the pale blue 
						sky seemed to go on for ever without so much as a single 
						cloud to spoil the view... 
Actually, as he 
						stared out of the window, he could see a small black 
						‘something’ on the far blue horizon. Perhaps it was a 
						small flock of birds but he couldn’t quite make out what 
						it was. He called for the nurse again, he really didn’t 
						want to suffer cold tea again, plus a very full nappy 
						but she wasn’t in any rush to come to his assistance. He 
						needed her to put the TV or radio on as well as he 
						couldn’t control the remote. 
Annoyed and 
						frustrated he returned to looking out over the peaceful 
						sunny morning view… everything the same except that the 
						black smudge on the horizon seemed to be getting bigger 
						and he wondered if there was perhaps a fire burning off 
						in the distance. He couldn’t make it out but shouted 
						loudly again for the nurse to come to him.
A voice called 
						back that she was on the phone to the doctor and that 
						she would be up in a minute. That calmed him down a 
						little but he knew that cup of tea would be undrinkable 
						now and that his nemesis would not think of brewing him 
						another cup. It wasn’t like it was rocket science for 
						God’s sake he’d think to himself, as he wondered if 
						anyone of his team-mates would visit him today. He knew 
						they wouldn’t… over the past eight weeks a total of… 
						zero… zilch… bugger all… not one of those bloody 
						self-centred bastards had taken the trouble to come and 
						visit or call to see how he was. 
It was as if no 
						one even missed the fact that he wasn’t around anymore.
						“Bastards every fucking one of them” he thought… 
						he couldn’t wait for the chance to ignore them once he 
						was in full health. He looked out of the window again. 
						Hell that black cloud was getting larger by the moment. 
						It put him in mind of a sight he’d seen on a television 
						nature programme where a plague of locusts had swooped 
						in on some poor foreign country and eaten the area’s 
						entire crops leaving the locals starving. It wasn’t a 
						nice image but he’d been enthralled by what nature could 
						do if it wanted and there was bugger all Man could do to 
						stop it. 
*
As he thought 
						these thoughts… the black cloud seemed to separate and 
						peel away in different directions. “How amazing” 
						James thought and was even more amazed as after a few 
						minutes the two separate clouds changed direction again 
						and came as two parallel lines towards his home. He 
						still couldn’t make out what it was but saw that it 
						wasn’t two solid black entities but a multitude of 
						separate moving parts. It was a swarm but, he wondered, 
						a swarm of what? Again his mind went back to the locusts 
						and he thought he was witnessing one of natures little 
						quirks manifest itself in his back field.
Suddenly for 
						some reason James felt uncomfortable. Sweat had begun to 
						form on his forehead and his body was clammy under the 
						sheets. His bladder gave way as the green brackish 
						liquid filled his already pretty soaked nappy and his 
						bowel tightened as he tried to keep from messing in his 
						thick protection. Pain stabbed at his insides as he 
						failed to hold himself in check and a brown liquid steam 
						oozed from his backside as he gave way to the 
						excruciating agony that gripped his belly. 
He mournfully 
						cried out through clamped shut eyes as if for some 
						reason he knew… he just knew… that something terrible 
						was about to happen. He was scared to open even one eye 
						as he tried to block out what was waiting for him should 
						he dare to even blink his eyes open for a split second. 
						His misery got worse and he could feel his eyes, 
						by some strange and malevolent entity, being prised 
						open. He fought as hard as he could… crying out “No 
						No No” to no one in particular… but suddenly his 
						eyes were open wide. 
He blankly gazed 
						out of his window… but the field had gone, the blue sky 
						had gone, his newly budding trees were gone but there, 
						hovering were a mass of shapes moving around… themselves 
						seemingly caught up in some terrifying current of air. 
						Images of bodies being tossed around at random… darting 
						skyward and then plummeting earthward filled the view 
						from his window. James was scared and transfixed as this 
						myriad of changing, dark, yet animated, images appeared 
						to clamour at his window. The buzz clattered against the 
						window pane and he could make out that they were giant 
						wasps.
Terror tightly 
						gripped his chest as he made the connection between his 
						waking dream and his illness. There, beyond the window, 
						was the cause of his situation but now they’d returned 
						in their millions.
Then it 
						happened.
*
The cacophonous 
						sound in his head surprised him. His blood ran cold as 
						he tried desperately to heave himself from the bed and 
						hide. The noise seemed to be calling to him, this time 
						louder and more demanding. He hoped it would be the 
						nurse at the doorway telling him off for being such a 
						complaining baby but there was no one around. His body 
						temperature was dropping quickly and his breathing got 
						more and more laboured. His cold breath creating a small 
						cloud as he breathed out but his face was drawn once 
						again toward the window. All those millions of wasp-like 
						images had become a solid mass of ghostly figures, which 
						then became one. 
A face. 
A face that was 
						beckoning James. 
“Come”
The word came 
						again this time demanding and commanding him for the 
						final time. 
*
The nurse 
						arrived in the bedroom to find her charge cold and dead. 
						His eyes were wide open in terror and his mouth locked 
						in an unheard scream. She couldn’t understand what had 
						happened and rushed to telephone the doctor who only 
						minutes earlier had told her that he thought he’d found 
						a solution to their patient’s problem. 
She didn’t see 
						the black smudge retreating back over the blue horizon. 
						She didn’t hear the return of birdsong that had been 
						silenced for the last few minutes and she never saw the 
						final tear trickle down the face of her charge. 
						James was indeed dead but his torment was just 
						beginning.
						**********
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