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Fly On The Wall

Ya know....you should be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. Those words now mean a lot to me.

Faye, a fellow secretary, and I were coming back from lunch. Our luncheon chatter consisting mostly of speculation about our boss, Arthur Barlow, and the beautiful, recently widowed, Mrs. Sylvia Stanyon. For the past three days, since the passing of the unfortunate Mr. Bartholomew Stanyon, the two had been in meetings that had lasted up to three hours in his office. Probate? We didn't think so.

Anyhow, I was just saying how I wished I were a fly on the wall in Mr. Barlow's plush office, when-WHAM!-a cab hit me as I was stepping off the curb. The breath was knocked out of me but, as it turned out, more than breath was knocked out of me.

I remember floating in the air above the tragedy of my untimely death, watching Faye screaming hysterically over my battered body lying in the gutter. The cab driver was babbling that it wasn't his fault. Really, it wasn't you know, I should have been paying attention. People were beginning to crowd around, when things went suddenly black. Then, there it was, that light, so gloriously bright and radiating such a serene sensation, it was no wonder people are always saying you should walk into it. And I did...I kinda expected to be greeted by a heavenly host of harp playing angels, all my friends and relatives who had passed on before me, lined up to welcome me to my new residence. But, at the end of that marvelous light, things grayed out and I slipped into deep, dreamless sleep.

I later became conscious of a lot of movement around me. I slowly focused my eyes; everything seemed multi-faceted, yet, I became aware of thousands of white writhing maggots surrounding me. I was repulsed at first, but when I tried to avert my gaze, became even more repulsed that I was no different than any one of them. It was the moment of realization that these were my siblings. We were resting on a deer carcass, or so I thought. It was, in all actuality, a large, very dead rat. My brothers and sisters were wasting no time burrowing into its mangy hide for all the delicacies a rat had to offer. If I didn't hurry and do some digging in myself, I wouldn't even get leftovers.

That was my life for a few days: eating, sleeping, growing fat and preparing to morph into the next stage of my new life.

I was proud of my new wings. I strutted like only a fly can do, folding and unfolding my transparent, thinly veined wings. It was such a wondrous

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