By Ahula TingaOne fine morning Ned Busckii awoke with the feeling that he definitely needed change in his life. Ned Busckii was a fly. So far his interests had mainly lingered on food and foul things. His favoured meal were pulpy strawberries that just started to ferment. But he also loved the strong and spicy aroma of old meat. This fondness for dead flesh certainly belonged to the insect’s darker sides. He did not talk about it, but at night he sometimes roamed through the house to look for dead mice or – if he couldn’t find any – to steal something from the cat’s feeding bowl.
As it was a common practice amongst flies that lived in a human household, Ned had been born in an enormous basket of fruits. For the little grub this meant paradise and, during his whole childhood and youth, the sheer plenty of food was just intoxicating. Seen from a human perspective, this had happened of course only a few days ago.
