Animal Dilemmas – Giant vs Fruit Fly
After the demise of the cockroach, it was dark again. Only the counter dwarf with the bell lantern spread light. The fruit flies casually flew back to business as usual. The corpse of the enormous roach didn’t bother them one bit. They sucked on sugar, as usual, until the dwarf light went out as scheduled at midnight.
The flies retired. The only creatures still scavenging around were random house roaches.
The next day the giant proceeded to tidy up the kitchen and even the flies were forced to stay dormant in the dusty corners. There was a lot of spraying around, wiping, sweeping, opening of windows, mopping and wrapping all food in plastic bags. Plastic bags full of trash flew down the rusty metal shaft and landed in a dumpster with a considerable bang.
The entire sticky trash receptacle was disposed of and replaced by a shiny new one. The giant spent the entire day in cleaning which was unusual for him. After he was done right around dusk he thought he deserved a reward. He uncorked a bottle of red wine and added a few extra cushions to the couch.
The aroma of the wine spilled into every molecule of the air that filled the apartment. It was promptly detected by the sleepy fruit flies. The kitchen was no longer sterile. The flies had a new reason to fly and risk their lives. And that reason was wine. The bravest of the flies took off and hovered around the neck of the bottle getting closer and closer.
The giant walked in, swept the air with his hand and poured some wine in a stem glass. Now the godly aroma vibrated even stronger in the air. All flies left their secure hiding places and followed their dreams.
The giant corked the bottle on the counter, took the glass and planted himself on the couch. The weakest of the flies stayed with the bottle feasting on the few tiny drops left drying on its neck. The rest of the fruit flies followed the glass lead by the Fly that confronted the cockroach the night before.
The giant planted himself on the couch centered around the glass of wine and staring ahead at the moving pictures. The band of flies was closing in. They were swarming the glass when his attention was completely taken by the moving pictures and flying off when he lifted the glass to his lips or noticed them and waved his free hand about.
But his attention was mostly taken by those pictures. So the flies landed on the glass walls or on the edge, sucking on the sweet juice of life. The Fly and two of his generals entered the dome of the glass in search of adventure. Sugar was not enough for them. The juice was just as sweet on the edge of the glass but these three wanted to taste danger from the source. The enormous red pool of wine gently swayed from side to side. They flew low over it with condescending confidence.
At that moment the giant swirled the glass and the rising wine captured the Fly in its sticky grip. The other two were lucky to avoid the liquid mass of wine and fly off.
The Fly was belly flat floating on the surface of the wine flapping as hard as it could.
The giant was about to take a sip when he noticed it. He was not about to swallow a fruit fly because society told him it was wrong. Even though, a fruit fly wouldn’t distress his digestion.
He observed the Fly for a while.
The Fly was hopelessly trying to reach the edge of the red pool and probably was hoping to crawl up the glass wall after, to the top of the glass, rest there for a significant amount of time to dry its wings and then fly home a hero.
The Fly was indeed aiming subconsciously for just that.
The giant saw its impossible situation and even though flies meant nothing to giants and he personally had murdered hundreds of them, he decided to help. He sat the glass on the table and fetched a spoon from the kitchen. He picked up the glass once again and carefully reached and scooped out the Fly.
The Fly was still very active, and now out of the depth of wine crawled around the spoon with even greater vigor. The giant turned off the picture box and took a sip on the wine. He was carefully observing the maneuvers of the Fly. It was crawling about and on the back of the spoon. It was visible that one of its wings was severely folded and possible permanently damaged.
The giant was not happy about that. He really wanted that one Fly to fly again. He grew affectionate for it.
The Fly, as if reading his thoughts, attempted to leap up and fell of the spoon, printing a tiny red dot on the giant’s white shirt. He took another sip on the wine and kept a close eye on it. The cotton had soaked some of the wine and Fly was drier than ever. Its left wing was still folded into an impossible knot.
It was crawling about with a vague sense direction.
The giant sipped wine and observed it for several minutes without lifting his eyes. Until his glass was empty. He reached to leave it on the table and touched the remote control with it. The picture box went on and he looked up. When he looked back at his shirt the Fly was no longer there.
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