I now know what is meant by the expression “flies as big as dogs”. It sounds like hyperbole but it’s a poetic truth. Just as there are stray dogs that prowl idly in the open streets, there are stray flies, chrome green and the size of Christmas tree bulbs, that prowl the open surfaces in enclosed and sunny spaces like my garden and sniff their way around, heads down, one paw at a time, dragging their brilliant bulk along with every expectation of courteous treatment as fellow idlers.
They’d be impossible to kill without remorse but I draw the line at letting them palpate my skin or taste my food, and as politely as I can I wave them on like a policeman does a foreigner.
No comments:
Post a Comment