Bye-bye Mr Fly... An unlikely obituary
It’s that time of the year. Late October and it’s been a
warm autumn in Switzerland. Today the sun came out and the last of the lazy and
limping creatures appeared, cavorting as the sand in the hourglass of life was running out.
That includes the fly in my office, acting like it has drunk just enough absinthe to lose its mind yet not the will to keep on trying (OK, big assumption on it having a mind in the first place, but it must have had a purpose... Or evolution would surely have ruled out its existence. Right?)
As I write, it traces the exact same path across the room. Again and again. And again.
Unfortunately this route means a close fly-by my ear and onwards into the corner above my desk where it flounders for a moment and makes a loud buzzing noise. I don’t blame it for being unhappy, I too would quite frankly be annoyed with my fate! Before long it’s off again, wavering towards my face before flailing back off into the stupido-sphere. But not before cusping my ear yet again, in what feels like an ever so soft assassination attempt. Queue in "Killing me Softly" by the Fugees and you're pulled into the slow-mo purgatory of the fly and I in our badly choreographed death-dance.
In case you’re wondering, I did try swatting it once and my main achievement was knocking everything off my notice board. Just as well I’m not on the swat team of anywhere.
This is in stark contrast to this weekend’s exotic incident when I opened a window to discover an entwined pair of alpine lizards, literally falling out of their romance, into my lap. That’s OK, I like lizards. Had they been spiders I would have felt different!
Back to the (I wish) never-present fly. His tiny little fly ears (do flies have ears?) must have been burning as he has decided to take a breather. This is quite possibly his most annoying feature. Inconsistency. His fuzzy flights are infrequent enough that I lose patience and holding onto a rolled up newspaper in wait for an invisible assailant for longer than a couple of minutes is boring. Beyond boring. Unless you’re a ninja of course, which I am most definitely not! You try it. And for you seasoned meditators out there – I envy you. I recently downloaded an app to help me along the path of mindfulness. So watch this space, OK. I know you'll be great at it!
On that note – I don’t wish Mr Fly any bad. Only peace. For him and me. That’s assuming it’s a he. How discriminatory of me, although I’m not sure if it that is an insult to men or women. Maybe both.
Wow, it’s late. I should just go to bed. He seems like the kinda creature that may just be lurking around for me in the morning.
Aaaaaand – there he is again. I didn't even have a chance to log off my computer. Deep breaths. Good night.
The next day
PNGMPM: (Post night, Good Morning, Post Mortem): I woke up to find Mr Fly, no longer in flight, on my desk. Bye-bye, Rest in Peace. You certainly made an impact. Let this be your obituary.