A damsel fly sits on a wavering weed leaf. He looks to the
sun, then the shadows on the ground. FOUR
MINUTES their countdown announces.
The damsel fly looks around. There is an orgy in the air around him. His
wings are weak. He feels frail.
Another damsel fly lands on a leaf beside his. It smiles at
him. He waxes his eyes then screams at the other fly:
“WHERE WERE YOU? We said meet here, on the leaf, at the
crack of dawn, so we can get it over and done with then enjoy the meaningless
sex afterwards! Now, I’ve only got four minutes and I’m exhausted from looking
for you all day. I’m dying. I’ll be surprised if I can even get it up-”
His rant is cut short by the other fly’s hovering wings. It
disappears into the orgy above. The damsel fly sulks. The shadows announce THREE MINUTES. The damsel fly sighs and
decides that sunbathing will have to do in his final moments of life. He never
really wanted children anyway.
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