Fate of a Fly

This defines insanity.  Bumping and bumping and bumping into some invisible barrier with my destination straight ahead, in sight.  I don’t know how I got here, and now I can’t get out.

It’s so bright out there today, the sun shines through but it’s not the same.  So many others like me, living off waste, why should anyone care?  I’ve seen such random meanness, such evil, my friends murdered in front of me, in front of others, and none of the monsters even react.  Some watch the killings, others ignore them, but they all just go on with their lives like nothing happened.  Sure, they’re still breathing, still eating and sleeping and shitting, still making the waste that feeds us.

All I really want is my freedom.  To feel the wind blow against me, let it move me, glide.  That, and some food.

Wait, I sense something, someone, one of the monsters.  Should I hide or just stay still?


“Yo Garret, did you drink the last few beers last night?”  Joseph asks.

“I don’t know, probably.”

“Whatever, you needed to restock anyway.”

“Why don’t you go out and buy me a case?  You spend enough time here.”

“Alright.  Yo, there’s a fly in the house.”

“Yeah we get a lot around the compost pile out back.  Just kill it.”

“I think I can let it out.”  Joseph opens the sliding glass door.  “Go on, dude, get out.”

“Are you talking to the fly?  Did you just call it a ‘dude?’”


Maybe the monster doesn’t see me.  What’s happening?  The barrier moves?  Something’s changed.  Maybe I won’t go insane, let’s try again. . . .

I’m free!  Time to eat.


  1. Hmm well I must admit I let fly's out rather than kill them too—go on fly little fly....

  2. I will let flies go unharassed until they start divebombing me. Then it becomes war.

    I figured it was either a videogame character running into an invisible wall or a critter with some glass. Didn't think it for a fly, though. They sure do love my windows.

  3. Thanks, Helen and John, for your comments. Hope you both enjoyed your weekends.