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You've heard the saying "Wish I was a fly on the wall.." ? Aren't we curious creatures! Imagine you are that fly for a day..and lived to write the tale.. Oh and my Challenge requires the inclusion of at least two original words.
Hi everyone. Just call me buzz, as I seem to spend most of the day just buzzing around. I know what you are all thinking, “just a stupid fly sitting on the wall. They are born to die, there are so many of them”. Well arn’t we all, I mean born to die. So climb down from your high horses humans, I will tell you a few home truths about us flies. Just cast a thought for instance on dying. I know you don’t want to hear it, but if it wasn’t for us flies the world would be populated with dead bodies. Sorry, but that is the way it would be.
So let’s change the subject for something more pleasant. What do we like doing most of all. Now flies are not so different to humans in that respect. Sitting on this wall I am using my sense of smell and sight, looking for food and perhaps something female looking for a good looking fly like myself. And here she comes.
“Hi floogie, what about a maggot producing session to keep our species going?”
“I am not your floogie, and I am only here for a few days, so I don’t just take the first smelly object that happens to look my way.”
“My charm must be waning, she has flown on. I think she was one of those snobby flies from the cemetery, they all think they are something better. I might not get such five star food as she does, but those humans can be very fly friendly sometimes.
I must explain, my wall is not just a wall. There are walls and walls, and mine is absolutely goluptuous. The ideal place for a winged beauty like myself. It is a kitchen wall. The place where the humans eat bread and jam, drink milk and make a mess on the floor, especially the miniature humans. Paradise for my sort. Just sit and wait and it happens. Breakfast is finished and everything is laying on the table just wanting me to pass bye and have a dip in the remains. Five minutes on that table and I can sit and sleep all day on the wall; no hunger, no thirst. I am insatiated and life is just great.
There comes another one. Perhaps I might be lucky this time.
“Hey floogle, what about it. You and me sitting on a wall together?” I think I might be lucky, she is looking my way and she is landing on the wall.
“OK big boy, come on over, I have some time spare, hope you are not a beginner.”
“Me, a beginner. You must be joking.”
Ok, everyone, looks like I will be busy for the next few hours. You know, ensuring the survival of our race and everything that belongs to it.
I am back again, now that was a success. She seemed quite happy and has flown off to other pastures. She said something about the cow field with plenty of food for the babies. We really have beautiful babies, just too many sometimes to know who they belong to. But who cares, as long as they are born in the right place with plenty of food.
It is now time to do some colubering. You do not know what that is? Just something that we flies do now and again, one of our little secrets. I feel much better afterwards. Might even take a walk across the other wall, You call it a ceiling, but for us it is a wall, just another direction. Makes the scenery look more interesting. Oh dear, I think one of the cemetery tribe is near bye. I can smell him.
“Are you talking to me?”
There he is, big and smelly with hairs on this legs. I know, I have hairs as well, but his hairs are more like fur; everything twice as big as a normal fly like myself.
“No, I was just admiring your wonderful streamline body and your flying talent.”
“I should think so, we trample wall flies like you, if you get too cheeky. After all I am a cemetery fly, one of the best.”
And he flew off, thank goodness. You should never get to near those sort. They can be very nasty.
I can feel a faint tremble in the air – I think trouble is coming. Whew! that was close, I think humans just seem to make a sport of swiping at us flies with their hands. The fly swatters are worse. You feel the human hand coming, but the swatters let air through the gaps and you get no warning; but that’s life. One of the reasons I stay on the wall. Down below there are a few departed of our species lying on the floor.
Anyhow enough said, but just think. The next time you see one of us, it is not the idea that a dead fly is the only good fly. We have our uses, so just let us sit on the wall. We might even be meditating.