Brad’s overtaxed fly synapses fairly sizzled as he tried to direct the fly’s actions despite the insect’s firm decision in favor of flight over fight when it came to the huge human in the room.
Mark, the aforementioned human, was no longer even giving the buzzing insect any attention. He’d swatted at the bug, missed, and gone on about his routine which got an unexpected interruption
The routine disruption could not be blamed on the pesky never-give-up attitude of the fly, until recently an accomplished research scientist in the field of physics.
Instead, a knock at the front door heralded the arrival of Mark’s uncle. Tall and built, just like his nephew, Brett Walters gave Mark a hearty hug and immediately asked about his nephew’s husband.
“I’m not sure where he is at the moment,” Mark answered. “What brings you here?”
Brett laughed and shook his head. “I thought I’d have senior moments before you,” he ribbed his nephew. “We planned to watch the game this evening. You said Brad wouldn’t mind…”
Mark groaned. “Yea, that completely slipped my mind.” He laughed. “Guess that explains Brad’s absence. He said he’d find something else to do for the evening.”
Unnoticed, so far, a tiny fly buzzed and listened.
“No!” Brad zipped closer to his huge spouse. “I’ve not gone anywhere. I am right…”
His uncommunicated plea got interrupted by another unsympathetic swipe of his husband’s gigantic hand.
Brett laughed at Mark’s rather feeble efforts to deal with a buzzing fly.
In the meantime, Brad felt relieved that his fly eyes helped him avoid what could have been a dangerous blow.
“That’s not going to do much good,” Brett said as Mark swung again only for the insect to veer away.
“I saw this video,” Brett said. “Explained why flies are so good at avoiding everything we throw at them.”
Mark grunted. “Sounds like fascinating viewing.”
Brett laughed again and focused on the tiny insect, now hovering halfway across the room.
“The trick is don’t aim directly at them.” he said, measuring up the airborne pest.
He swung, deliberately not taking aim at the bug’s precise location, but directing his hand slightly in front of the insect to anticipate its movement.
It worked.
His palm smacked the fly in mid-air, causing the buzz of the wings to sputter as the insect spiraled out of control toward the living room floorboards.
Both men laughed, a hearty noise that rumbled like a thunderstorm from the lowly vantage of a fly now crashed on the hard floorboards.
“Now we can watch the game in peace,” Mark said as he stepped over a tiny fly stranded on the floor.
The sole of his shoe slamming down sent shockwaves reverberating through the floor and the insect’s meager form as it struggled, in shock, at its treatment at the hands of his spouse and his husband’s uncle.
The battered insect would have groaned as it did a quick damage check. The fact that it wasn’t a smear on Brett’s hand was the faintest of silver linings.
The tiny creature’s wings vibrated with an odd resonance. One of the halters on the insect’s back had taken a damaging hit, which now added difficulty to Brad’s attempts to get himself airborne again.
As Brad struggled, the sound of conversation got drowned out by the television, now tuned to a game that grabbed the undivided attention of the two giants.
The behemoths had settled onto the monolithic living room sofa, but they would get on their feet again, during commercials, for snacks, beers or bathroom breaks. Brad didn’t want to still be on the floor when they did so.