A long legged fly landed on a rock on a windy coast one evening. It was at an area near to where the river met the sea where the wind was well-known to be especially strong. As he struggled to stand still, the wind would blow away at his wings, stomach, antennae, and even at his long slender legs, making it difficult for the little fly's feet to remain firmly on the ground.
“If only I had somebody here with me,” the little fly lamented as he found a little rock to shield himself from the wind, “then we could laugh and make this incidents into acts of comic and laugh at how each other cannot stand still.”
The little fly sighed, feeling alone, feeling lonely.
“How I wish I was more like the grey little butterfly over there,” said the fly to himself of a little grey butterfly that was flying about lowly amongst the grasses, perhaps, collecting nectar off the wayside flowers of the coast. “Even though I wouldn't be very beautiful, I would have more confidence to make friends with the dragonfly. Which has wings that are so big and that are so strong that they are loud.
“Then again, I might as well wish that I were a dragonfly,” said the fly, a little more loudly this time, as he saw some dragonflies dancing around a tree nearby. The fly did not know what the dragonfly was doing, but thought that if he were the dragonfly... “surely I would understand why then dragonflies fly around trees sometimes.”
Then the fly had a tiny epiphany.
“Maybe they are trying to make friends with the birds! Of course! If I were a dragonfly, I would surely make friends with the birds.
“Then I'd better wish that I was a bird then. A very large bird. That could fly very, very high.” The little fly raised his voice and his little head to face the sky to look for the highest flying bird that he could wish to be like.
The golden sun was setting and coloured the clouds orange, pink and purple.
“I can do no better than to wish that I was a cloud!” He cleared his throat and confidently announced to the lack of audience, “Then I would be higher than everybody and bigger and mightier. I could rain and make birds and dragonflies and butterflies and stupid little flies, like me, miserable!” The fly heaved a loud conclusive sigh, proud for arriving at such a complicated solution.
It would be good and timely if he could fold his hands behind his head and lie on his back to admire himself and the clouds. But as he realised as he turned two rounds about himself, he could not lie on his back, and felt stupid for turning rounds about himself, and quickly hope that nobody saw him.
He looked into the sky and realised that the clouds were different from how he just saw them.
Alas! Thought the little fly, even mighty clouds are subjected to the forces of the wind as well! And they wouldn't be able to find a rock to shield the wind from. Even though they are so mighty and they usually have friends that they probably don't need. Do clouds feel lonely too?
He was disappointed with the world and felt faint and nearly lost his footing again. He was too disappoint to not realise that even the mightiest of seas had to bear the forces of the wind. He was too disappointed to simply wish to be a gust of wind.
......
It was quite dark by the time he recovered himself from the desperation and he wondered if he should be getting back home. Then he concluded that he need not, since nobody was waiting for him anyway. He sighed again and looked at the water and wonder why the dark sea was so vast. It is curious how a little fly had so much capacity to sigh.
The moon was up. The little fly was cold and angry and unable to bear his perceived plight, so he shouted,
“Why is the world so unfair to me? I'm just a little long-legged fly! I have brought fault to nobody! Yet, I am so lonely. Nobody wants to be my friend.”
(sneak)
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