There is a fly. Too small to be a FLY in capital letters, I dub it fruit fly. I don't know how it thrives; it tries to butt my desk-lamp. Caught in the beam it blushes red, translucent as a traffic light, till it changes lanes to disappear in darkness.
All diversions are fruitless. It comes back, an irritant with a knack of avoiding each swat I swing...
Setting a trap with an open-paged book ready to snap, I become a hunter, judging the moment to dispel the torment of circling gnat or fly in the twinkling of an eye. Persistence wins. SPLAT!
I've sinned; pray forgive this mindful murder. My sorry tale may go no further...
**P.S. It's 4.44pm on 9/3/2023, and I found a draft just now that had been sitting around unpublished for far too long.
Thus I've decided to send it out to sail the seas of Blogland, in the hope it may encounter signs of habitation on some far-flung outpost of the Blogland Empire!
*smiles* ♥x♥ from Jinksy
Long time since I had a wander here. All I can say is..."No flies on me!"
ReplyDeleteWhich is just as well, for Ada might attack me with her fly swatter...
I seldom talk to myself, but maybe I should do it more often! ;-)
ReplyDeleteObviously, I'm a bad fisherman, as my dangling fly failed to get a bite...
ReplyDeleteBut I shall live in hope, nevertheless. ♥x
I never could resist a chance to go fishing - and Ada will tell you, I fell hook line and sinker for her charms. ♥
ReplyDeleteThose were the days, my friend, as the song says...
Will I be the catch you imagined? :-)
ReplyDeleteMaybe I can swallow your fly?! :-)
ReplyDeleteOops? How did I get here? Ada will wondering, too... :-)
ReplyDeleteI've spotted some life in Blogland HERE Hurrah!
ReplyDelete