Topic Generator: Difficult Egg

Fred was a difficult egg from the beginning. No matter how his mother tried to deposit him with his 400 brothers and sisters in the same place, he always managed to roll away to somewhere else. It seems that Fred’s mother had met his father on a chance flight near the laboratory where flies were being subjected to experiments of independence, it was all very psychological and the scientists needed to discover the secret of a fly’s ability to escape from being killed by a hand or fly swatter at the last minute. You must know what I mean. The fly is sitting on the table, you are ready to strike and just as you think you have him cornered, he flies away.

Fred’s Mum had found such a nice flat piece of cow recycling material in the meadow when she deposited her brood. She was sure that Gilbert, the husband that escaped from the fly experimental station, would have been proud of her to find such a nutritious place for his children, but Fred was different. He was too good for the others, he was something special. His mother gave up and decided if Fred did not need her maternal instincts, he should do it on his own. This did not bother Fred because Fred was a loner, one of those flies that decided to do his own thing.

And so Fred eventually arrived at the graveyard and grew big and strong. He was definitely meant for something more important than living in a piece of recycled cow material. So time passed and Fred discovered the meaning of a fly life. He became the father of many, but only chose the female flies from the graveyard, the classy ones, and avoided at all times the cow field. His many wives were not happy with their offspring, they could not keep them together in one place, but all his many hundreds of children inherited the difficult egg gene and passed it on to their children and children’s children.

One day Fred spotted a computer in Mrs. Angloswiss office. He always had an affinity to computers, espcially when he knew that Mrs. Angloswiss had the habit of eating soft sticky chocolate cake whilst composing her unique daily blogs and so he pounced. Mrs. Angloswiss was annoyed, uttered profanities and waved her hands, but to no avail.

Fred was having fun. He was sitting on the computer screen, was absorbing the knowledge of the bytes and links, this was his future he decided. Eventually Fred settled on the desk and Mrs. Angloswiss decided, now or never. She took her iPhone, knowing that she must act quickly and photographed Fred. Fred was now happy, he was now famous in the world of flies and knew that his many children would see the photo on Internet and be able to say “That is my dad”. In the meanwhile Mrs. Angloswiss was still trying to kill Fred, but he survived.

The motto to this story - there is none, flies escape every time.

WordPress Daily Prompt: Embrace the Ick

Think of something that truly repulses you. Hold that thought until your skin squirms. Now, write a glowing puff piece about its amazing merits.

“Oh Fred, you are the best.”

“You too Mabel, I could stay with you for hours.”

“We probably will Fred, everything takes its time.”

“What are you two flies doing on my window.”

“Look, Fred a human with one of those swatting things. I am sure she is going to squash us.”

“Err, yes Mabel, just remembered I have a few things to absorb down at the cemetery, see you later.”

“Fred, Fred: typical man, leaves you as soon as it starts looking dangerous.”

“I will get you, just stay where you are.”

“No way human, now my boyfriend as left me for a cemetery fly and I am going as well. I don’t know what you humans have against us flies, if it wasn’t for us there would be stuff laying all over the place that you don’t like, we are the champions of “ick” disposal.”

“Don’t get me wrong fly, if you fly that’s OK, but my window is not for your nuptial exertions and let’s face it, your children are not exactly the winners of the best baby contest.”

“I beg your pardon, my babies are beautiful, all three hundred of them. At least I think that is the count up to now. They are very independent when they are born, they do not scream, have no teething problems or need potty training. They can do it all by themselves without me or their father, wherever he might be, to tell them good night stories.”

“There is one little problem fly, they are repulsive, they squiggle and attack food supplies in hundreds. They are everywhere. I remember I once had a packet of raisins and one of your sort laid their eggs in it.”

“Of course, we like to deposit our babies in a place where we know they will not die of hunger.”

“Big deal fly, but I am not prepared to help you to become mother of the year. The raisins were alive with your offspring. I had to throw the whole packet into the trash.”

“Great, the best place for it.”

“Glad you agree.”

“Of course, our fly babies love trash. They can really develop their instincts in the trash. A bin full of decaying material, what could be better. I remember when I was a baby, the same thing happened to me. I had found a nice comfortable dinner on some remaining meat that had been forgotten. I was thrown into the trash and believe me that was not pleasant. I was only a few days old and was already a victim of the human destruction habits, until I found that the trash was a maggot’s paradise. I know that humans have an “ick” with the word maggot, but we flies have an “ick” with the word human. You think you are so masterful and good, but spend a day at the local cemetery. You are all the same down there.

So to continue, I was a little baby maggot in the trash. I checked to see if I was in one piece and realised I was laying on an apple, nice and soft and brown with a few patches of mould. This was great, it was the key to my survival.”

“Hold on fly, I really do not want to hear your life story, it is disgusting. Just wait until I get you.”

“Ha ha, missed. Humans will never realise that we flies are almost indestructable and your technique with the fly squatter needs to be practiced. You have to be patient, stop breathing and then aim. If you are lucky you might get me. Actually I think I am pregnant, thanks to Fred, he was a quick worker, even if you did frighten him away, so be careful. If you squash me with that fly squatter, I might be gone, but I will be replaced by my offspring and your window will be full of eggs. And now it is time to go, Fred said they are having a party at the cemetery.

“How disgusting.”

“Missed me again human, better luck next time. And do not forget, we are the disposal brigade, the ones that clear away the human mess, the cleaners.

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WordPress Daily Prompt: Fearless Fantasies

How would your life be different if you were incapable of feeling fear? Would your life be better or worse than it is now?




Imagine being a fly, just a normal average fly. Even their children are despised and hated by the human race. How can a fly mother love something, so white, shiny and squirming, so absolutely disgusting. If you have ever squashed a pregnant fly you know what I am talking about. OK, there is safety in numbers, they appear in hundreds. It is no wonder that mummy fly leaves them to find their own way after they hatch. There is no love between the fly families. Mummy fly flies off and does her own thing, might even meet another daddy fly, sits on a surface with him for an hour or so (that is true love) and life goes on. I am not an expert on flies. I wonder if they have more fear from us than we from them. They are so numerous, and my theory is they are born to be killed. I know this is very mean and no-one is born to be killed, whether animal or human, but tell that to the terrorists.

As I do not want to have a political blog, we all have our own opinions, I wonder how a fly’s life would be different if they could not feel fear. I honestly believe they do not feel fear, otherwise there would not be one circulating around my laptop now, glad to take a fly walk across my terminal. There he is, poised at the top of “Document1 – Microsoft Word”, wondering whether to call his friend over to enjoy the trip across my screen, but no fly No. 2 decided that perching on the mouse gives a better view on life. I now have a real collection of fly photos whilst writing my prize suspicious blogs. Where I go, the camera is always near.

If these flies were slugs, I would not be happy: a slug crawling over the computer, leaving a trial of sticky white transparent whatever in its path.; no thank you. We have a bout of wet weather at the moment. It has only rained once since yesterday, but without pause, constantly. This morning on a garden inspection I saw them approaching, a complete army of slugs, slowly but surely sliming their way to my prize herbs and flowers, munching on their way. I hate them and there was a time when I uttered the word “Ugh” and stood powerless against this invasion. Today, this is not the case. One day I took my courage in my hands fingers, plucked its slimy wet sticky body off a basil leaf and wanting to bring this experience behind me, feeling like a batter in a baseball team, threw the slug as far as possible. They move slowly, so it is a narrow chance that he would find the way back to my garden. I overcame my fear of snails, leaving me with the problem of washing my hands afterwards. Up to now there is no soap or liquid that rids the fingers of snail slime with one wash.

Being a golden oldie (have I said that before), I have been around long enough to take things as they come. I have fallen twice and broken my arm in two different places, I have had a few organs removed from my body and survived. There are a few interesting scars left from various fearless attempts to overcome obstacles. Even arising in the morning after a night’s sleep is a conquest. Will I succeed or not? The first steps to the bathroom are on wobbly legs, but I arrive, holding onto the wall or a cupboard as I go. Everything is strategically placed in my living quarters. Eventually I find a comfortable chair in the kitchen, the scene set with a computer (still covered in milk stains from cereal), and my cup of tea and breakfast at the side. The next obstacle to overcome is rising from the chair. I tend to have a back twinge lately which hems this action, but it can only get better. By the time they let me out to go shopping all limbs seem to be working and I always have Mr. Swiss at my side – something like Roy Rogers and Trigger – to help me on my way.

Drawing to a conclusion, it makes no difference if I feel fear or not. I just bite on my lip, hold my breath and hope for the best. We have a good health system in Switzerland and the hospital is near. They look after you well after the operation and it is all covered by the monthly insurance we pay. What could possibly go wrong?

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WordPress Daily Prompt: Fly on the Wall

If you could be a “fly on the wall” anywhere and at any time in history, where and when would you choose?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us SNEAKY.

Wait, just a minute: do you really think that I, Buzzy, as a fly am just going to sit on a wall somewhere and study the surroundings and human conversation? I am a fly; I am born to ensure that my species expands and thrives. Just sitting around and listening will not do the job. We flies lead a life of stress. First of all we have to keep the females happy, and that is a hard job as a fly. Have you ever watched two flies sitting close together? Be honest, of course you have. It is a long job and hard work, needs concentration, and afterwards there are many mouths to feed, although the ladies usually lay their eggs in a place of nourishment to ensure that our children thrive.

This brings me to eating. Eating requires 90% of our time We have quite a rapid digestive system. If you add the 10% time spent in reproduction of the species and keeping us fit and healthy, it will be obvious that we do not have time to just sit around and be “sneaky”. Flies are not sneaky, we have a quest in life, and to fulfil this quest we do not just sit on any wall.

There are hazards in the job, but we are quick. Our favourite places of enjoyment are food centres. Restaurant kitchens are a paradise, but even the homely kitchen of a housewife, does the job. We flies do not sleep very much, not really necessary, life is short so enjoy it when you can. You never know when a fly swatter or even a hand might bring your earthly presence to an abrupt end, although we have an uncanny sense of movement. Have you ever tried to swat a fly with your hand. Of course, but the fly wins all the time. We know what is coming, before the human even thinks about it.

We do sit on walls, but are particular about which walls. The human conversation is not so interesting as the actions. How often have I had the enjoyment of pouncing on a freshly spread slice of bread complete with butter and jam? We flies just love sugar in all shapes and forms, it can be spreadable, solid and even contained in a drink. We are not fussy; it is the essence of a fly’s life. It makes no difference whether the sugar portions are in the conference room of the CIA, on the Queen’s tray when she takes her breakfast in bed in the morning, or even in the development section of Microsoft. Discussions about new computers, who really killed J.F.K. or Mossad plans to decide who will be the next in line for an assassination are of no interest to a fly. If there is sugar somewhere, we will be waiting to pounce.

One of our members might be at this moment sitting on a telephone in Moscow listening to a conversation between Mr. Putin, the Russian President, and an American spy. If our fly brother was interested, he would know which exact secrets Mr. Putin knows and whether the American spy will be granted exile in Russia. This does not interest the member of our fly family, he is only interested in the sugar contained in the fruit salad that Mr. Putin is spooning out whilst talking, hoping that a few drops of the precious fruity liquid may fall on the table, or the floor. The spy is sitting in a secret room somewhere in the world and munching a hamburger. The member of our fly family has his taste buds tickled by the aroma coming from the meat of the hamburger, and in a moment of distraction, he will pounce and take a sample.

So do not ask about which wall we would like to sit on. A fly’s life is short, so take what you can when you can. I am now off to the chocolate factory. I spotted such a lovely lady sitting on a piece of chocolate as I flew over. Have to hurry, there are a few hundred of my friends buzzing around, so I have to arrive first.

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