Man vs. Fly

I awoke one morning to the sound of a faint, steady buzzing. I held up my hand to shield my eyes from the strong morning sun. There it was, flying back and forth among the motes of dust, as if it were pacing, waiting for an invitation. I felt my face twist in disgust.

Insects and arachnids are some of the foulest creatures to have ever emerged from this world. And flies are the most pestilential, doggedly barbarous kind, second only to the cockroach. Machine-like, they went about spending their short, undeserved, pitiful lifespans circling heads and eating filth, harassing beasts far more dignified to exist. They leave wriggling monstrosities in their wake.

The fly landed on the window, and I slapped at it without thinking. My palm touched only glass. As my eyes adjusted, I saw it corkscrewing through the center of my bedroom. I gritted my teeth. The battle had begun.

The spring had presaged the return of my enemies. Luckily, I'd bought a flyswatter years ago. I fetched it out and poised with it like a samurai brandishing a katana.

It hummed into the kitchen, and I noticed resentfully that I'd left the screen door open. I snapped it shut before turning all my attention and anger back on the creature. It alighted on the soft plastic covering over my leftover apple pie. Obviously, I didn't want to squash my dessert, so I waved the flyswatter to scare it off. The fly wouldn't budge. Finally, I brought it down swiftly, only for it to dodge and move onto something else. I could practically hear it blowing a raspberry.

I decided to try a new stratagem. I approached it slowly, so slowly that it felt as though minutes had passed, until I was within a few inches of it. I didn't raise my weapon very high; mostly, I let my wrist do the work.

I was sure that I'd gotten him. How could it possibly move at such a speed? It managed to escape a certain fate in the fraction of a second. Beelzebub, I thought. Lord of the flies.

I lost all composure. My rational mind was useless against my burning bloodlust for this foul creature. I lashed out without control; the fly easily and mockingly cut across my surroundings. Sometimes it even touched down on me. It became clear to me that it knew no fear.

My rage got the better of me. I fetched some gasoline from the garage and started to wet everything down. I lit a match. The insect crouched on the counter, its many eyes smiling at me. I turned to run. A thunderous sound and flash of intense heat overtook me. Then, the world went black.

I awoke in a white room, wrapped like a mummy. A pretty blonde in blue scrubs smiled at me.

"What--happened?" I asked desperately. Her eyes saddened.

"There was an explosion. Let us take care of you. Rest up." I couldn't argue with that.

When she left, the fiend--Yes! The same!--entered. It buzzed in a broad circle before landing on my nose. It almost seemed to be doing a victory dance. My tears burned. I began to wonder whether I'd died and gone to hell.

The nurse came back in.

"We have some--" she trailed off. When she saw my enemy, she smiled and approached me.

"Oh, quit picking on the poor man," she said. Then she cupped her hand over my nose and lightly caged her fingers around it.

"I'll go and release it into the wild," she said. She did just that. I felt no reason to exist.