More Short Stories on our Blog brianthefly.com/
IT’S FLY’S LIFE…
Timmy was playing with his new PlayStation. It was brilliant. The trouble was that Timmy wasn’t quite so brilliant.
Stevie Thompson was really good and always got the highest scores, but he’d had his game for a long time and he had a better joystick. Timmy had been practising as much as he could, but he still wasn’t fast enough.
Brian landed on Timmy’s joystick at a crucial moment, breaking Timmy’s concentration.
“Awwwe! Briaaan! Now you’ve made me miss it. I would have gone to the next level if it wasn’t for you,” yelled Timmy, shoving the joystick, along with Brian, to one side.
“Oh dear me, dear me,” said Brian. “What was your excuse last night then?”
Timmy, still sulking, turned to Brian, “Anyway, Mummy says flies are dirty creatures that live on rubbish and carry germs.”
“Funny that,” said Brian, “flies think humans are dirty creatures that spread all kinds of disease. After all, it’s you lot that leave all the rubbish around everywhere, we just take advantage now and again.”
“Yeah, but you must be bad, you gave us the plague.”
“And who told you that then, Timmy, my boy?”
“Luke did, he’s nine and he does history,” said Timmy confidently.
“Well, you tell Luke to listen more carefully next time, instead of looking at the girls; then he would know it was the rats, not the flies. Anyway, that was a long time ago; things are different now,” said Brian knowingly.
“So aren’t flies dangerous then?”
“I suppose it’s like humans, some are, and some aren’t,” Brian mused. “I mean, take those mosquitoes, now they do bite, humans, animals, anything they can get their teeth on. That’s how they thrive and some of the ones in foreign countries carry that malaria, which is pretty dangerous.
“Now, take the likes of me,” Brian continued. “Well, we’re happy just feeding on fruit and, in my case, Doris’s milk, not human blood like the others, so we’re not as bad, but all creatures who feed on waste leftovers can cause infections to you humans if you don’t take care and keep yourselves and your surroundings clean.
“Now, humans, and human things, they are dangerous to us flies. You take WINDOWS for instance,” Brian winced.
“Windows, what’s dangerous about windows?” Timmy laughed.
“You may laugh, my boy, but I tell you they’ll be the death of us,” Brian replied. “You see, when you see a window, you know it’s a window but to us it’s just an open space – until we hit it, that is.
“We never see it, you see. It doesn’t matter how many times we think we have it sussed there’s always one that fools us. We can be outside trying to get in or inside trying to get out but we always hit them.
“Some of us, of course, have wised up, we know that when we land on those net curtain things, we’re near a window. Like, we never go into those supermarket places, tempting as they are with all that food and stuff, because they have huge windows and it would take us months to get out.
“But the ‘Sticky Thickies’, they never learn. They’re the ones that always get caught in spiders’ webs and stuck on those awful strips people hang in their kitchens. They always take the risk and end up thrashing about on a window trying to find the end of it, bruising their noses again and again.
“Why do you think flies are always rubbing their noses!” Brian laughed.
“Mind you, we’re fast movers; we can fly in every direction and faster than you can blink.
“You try to catch me, Timmy, go on, try – I bet you can’t.”
“I bet I can,” said Timmy, lunging at Brian with his outstretched hand.
Brian shot up in a flash, helped along by the current of air Timmy had created by waving his hand. Again and again Timmy thrashed his arms about, trying to catch Brian, and every time Brian simply flew up and away with the wind.
“No, not like that!” said Brian. “Look, hold your thumbs out towards me, arms straight, that’s right, thumbs facing me. Now concentrate, imagine you’re pressing a button with those thumbs and I’m the button. Now I’m going to move, and I’ll be moving fast now so you’ll have to be quick.”
Timmy was sure he would catch Brian this time and he really concentrated. Zap, zap, zap. Timmy alternated his arms, thrusting his upturned thumbs directly at Brian. Back and forth, faster and faster, more and more determined with every try, until he was within a fraction of touching Brian. But Timmy still couldn’t catch Brian, because flies can move in every direction faster than boys can blink.
“That’s enough!” Brian exclaimed, as by now he was worn out. “You might not have got me this time but I tell you, you’ll be a darn site better at that computer game in the morning, my boy, just you wait and see.”
Timmy laughed, as he lay down on his bed exhausted. He had enjoyed the game so much. Brian, also exhausted, continued to tell Timmy how dangerous life was for a fly. “And then there’s the cars and the motorways – and getting trapped, we’re always getting trapped and the…”
Brian looked down at Timmy, who had finally given up trying to keep his eyes open and had put his overworked thumb in his mouth. As Timmy fell asleep, with one trainer on, Brian whispered:
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user1464697110 · 11/06/2016 11:36
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