Daily Prompt: Unwanted Passenger


Did he or she really think my computer would be the next station in its short life? The only purpose in the life of a fly is to be killed and fast enough before they reproduce more of their wonderful children who are the most disgusting objects I have ever seen. Bring me your spiders, even your beetles (perhaps not cockroaches – too big and crunchy) but keep your flies away.

I envisage a planet somewhere in this universe populated by flies. They have a season in the year when it is too cold for them to survive, but they are prepared. They have spent their planet summer building various flying craft, fly suitable, completed with some sort of ambrosia similar food particles to keep them alive on the journey. Eventually the female flies are ready to present the next population and their eggs are packed into this flying object. The remaining thousands of flies on this planet attach themselves to tbis spaceship. begin to flap their wings, and propel it by warp speed into the vast expanse of the universe. The flies now drop with exhaustion on the surface of Planet Diptera, their home, and die, but their offspring are on the way to Earth.

The spaceship lands in a nice warm place, in a cow pancake or perhaps near a cemetary, and they begin to eat.  If you listen carefully you can hear them chomping their way and eventually they emerge as fully grown flies ready to take over. They have had this aim for millions of years. In the meanwhile their enemy, the human, is aware of this eternal threat. In Summer flies are everywhere and even have verious shapes and colours, but a fly remains a fly.

We are armed with a fly swatter in every room as you never know when or where they will appear, but you can be sure they will appear where you are. It is dinner time, and there is one of them buzzing around the food. A slice of bread and jam for breakfast – the fly is already sitting on the jam, the fly paradise.

In the evening you are relaxing in a chair and suddenly you feel a slight irritation. Yes, the fly king is sitting on your arm: a perfect lookout for studying where to go next. You take an aim with your fly killing weapon, but somehow they realise they are under attack before you actually decide to attack them. How often have you swatted you own leg or arm and search for a dead fly that is now laughing and watching suspended from the ceiling on sitting on a wall. The windows are open, the flies can escape but no way. Who wants to sit outside when there is enough to eat inside.

Some time during the year temperatures sink and the male flies die off. The females are busy laying their eggs. Somehow the last remining flies collect the eggs and send a signal. A space ship arrives and the eggs are packed into the cargo room. The remaining flies left on earth wave their now feeble wings as the ship takes off, back to planet Diptera. And so the life cycle of the fly continues. Have you ever wondered where the flies go in the Winter – well now you know.

Fly 18 (4)

Daily Prompt: Unwanted Passenger

6 thoughts on “Daily Prompt: Unwanted Passenger

  1. Your fly story is great!! My former husband’s grandmother lived in the country in an old house that was a converted barn. There was one spot in the back bedroom where these tiny flies would congregate every year; the bedspread would be black with them! You had to do a big cleaning before you could spend the night there.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I do not like flies at the best of times, they are born as a purpose for a fly swatter. What I find disgusting are their children, but thank goodness I do not often see them. There are certain places where they congregate, but I never really discovered the reason. Perhaps that is the landing place of the spaceship.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh yuk! That’s almost as bad as our caterpillars. The other day, a friend of our had a huge bonfire and she had collected as many caterpillars as she could fine and was torching them, screaming “DIE YOU BASTARDS! DIE!!”

    I could feel for her. I really could.

    Liked by 1 person

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