A Brief Encounter on the Fly…

The sun finally came out after the heavy rain and the smell of cow shit wafted through the air. Sun streaks filtered light through clouds, making piles of dung look like pepper spots over a grassy land. There roamed the broad, black and white creatures so familiar to dairy farms neighboring tiny hidden suburbs.

One cow with a single black spot, eleven inches up and to the right of the flank (the area near the “groin”) lay down to rest. That single black spot seemed to be a perfect little landing pad for the first fly, which had literally been born yesterday, to stop and rest at its exact center.

The first fly thought that there could be no better place on Earth to be resting at that moment. That was until the other fly came and mounted the first fly.

“Um, excuse me,” the first fly said.

“Oh hey,” the other said without stopping.

“What are you doing?” the first fly asked impatiently.

The other fly cocked its bug-eyed head. “Um. Two flies on a dairy. What else are we supposed to do?”

The cow mooed and its tail flicked the air.

“I’m a guy.”

The other fly did not stop.


“I said, I’m a guy,” the first fly repeated.

“Oh. Oh! Oh. Dude, I am so sorry. I didn’t realize. It’s just that, you know. I saw you here, just hanging out, and I figured we don’t have much time to be alive, so, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” the first fly said. “So, can you, um, stop fucking me now?”

“OH. Oh. Okay. Alright.” The other fly paused for a moment, without dismounting. “So. Um. Do you mind if I finish? I mean, I’m almost done anyways.”

If the first fly would have had eyeballs, flesh, facial muscles or anything that is required of forming a recognizable facial expression, there would have been a look of disbelief. But instead, the first fly kept looking forward and in all the many directions a fly’s view can see.

“Ugh. I guess. Whatever,” the first fly replied with reluctance. After all, the events were already in motion. And after all, as they say, you only live once. Especially when you only live for five days.

With all the excitement and tension, the other fly finished sooner than expected and gingerly removed himself from the first fly.

“Ah wow.” The other fly said, letting out a long breath. “It’s been a long time.”

“Has it?” the first fly asked.

“Yeah. Like at least a few hours.”

“Oh, I see.”

The buzz was no longer a buzz, but a hum of the mid-afternoon sun. And the air heavy with intoxicating fumes drifting along the fields.

A tail flicked and smacked, striking just inches away from the two of them. The cow let out a long, drawn-out moo.

“So…” The first fly started again. “Um. So. What do you like to do?”

“Hm? Oh. You know. Hang out I guess.”

“Oh yeah? Where at? I don’t really know this area too well yet. I’m not even a full day old yet.”

“I just hang around.” The other fly’s speech was sluggish. “Place gets boring when you been around a while.”

“What do you mean? How old are you?”

“Couple days.”

“A couple days? You’re twice my age!”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, what are you doing hanging out with me?”

“I don’t know. I was just buzzing around this place. Thought you might want to have some fun.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t have fun. That’s what.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself just fine.”

“How the hell would you know?”

“I’m just trying to have a good time and you’re kind of a buzz-kill. Can you just leave me alone?”

The smell of bullshit was more pungent than ever.

“Fine. I’ll just leave then.”


“Whatever,” the first fly took off into the air, leaving the other fly mulling over its lethargic stupefaction.

Maybe it was the heat. Or maybe it was the methane-laden air. Maybe it was the drugged out after-glow of sex that made that other fly react just a little bit too slow. Too slow to see the bovine tail come up, stretch outward, then inward, in a perfect parabolic arc, only to hit the dead center of that black spot, eleven inches up and to the right of the cow’s flank, where the other fly stayed.

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