A shaded balcony of aparment 20D welcomed a lone fly writing a love letter to the human on the opposite side of the smudged sliding glass door.
He was swirling in his best cursive hoping she would notice his faint afterglow, his message longer than the energy of a normal fly lifespan.  Most flies aspire to escape back to the sky if ever in the position of being trapped inside the big box.  This fly was different, he didn’t want the sky.

He wanted love.  To extend his labellum upon her arm and absorb her chemistry.  To remind him of years before his maggot days. When he too was human.  For hours he pushed his wings against the manipulative wind, correcting his errors and staring diligently at the his future lover. Writing his best to hypnotize her so that at any moment she would get up off the couch and walk to the door, open it slowly and allow him to enter her kingdom of walls.  In his letter he promised to make sure to stay in control of his movement as to not simply bounce into her cheek like his fellow, mindless peers.  He vowed to always be orbiting her body in order to guard her from a perilous world, determined to stay with her until his wings were no longer of use, and as his energy slipped past his crossed feet on the kitchen floor, his soul to enter her sleep.

He would become another kiss in a dream.  A better life than a fly.

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