I was having a particularly bad day. First off, let's just say that being a fly isn't easy. I was nearly killed a dozen times in the first 5 minutes of the day. A giant raindrop, a falling acorn, three enormous two-footers, one of those monster vehicles that the two-footers move around in, etc. You get the point. Everyday is a risk. Every minute could mean a tragic death, usually by squishing.
Well, around noon, I accidentally flew inside a building without checking it first. Before entering a giant two-footers' dwelling, I always take a peek inside for any obvious dangers, I'm always "checking". Because of my worsening mood with the oncoming rain, as soon as I saw the crack, I flew right in. Of all times there could have been a two-footer, it had to be then. Of course. Fate never works in the favor of a fly. Sometimes I wonder if I did something terrible in my last life to deserve such a life of running in fright of everything bigger than me, which is pretty much everything.
Anyway, two young girls, although thousands of times larger than me, freaked out when they saw me and began flailing their limbs around wildly. Attempting to squash me no doubt. Luckily, my eyesight allowed me to examine everything around myself. My irritation lifted for just a few fearful moments as I flew for my life. However, in my crazed escape, I forgot about what awaited for me outside. I managed to dodge the drizzles, but a strong breeze blew me into a bush beside the entrance to the building, where unfortunately I landed in a perfectly designed spiderweb. A couple of times before, I have been caught in an amateur’s spider web, which I eventually got free from, but this one was perfect. I struggled for hours, but there was no way free. Finally, I started to give up. I knew a fly’s life was short and I resolved to just rest peacefully instead of waste all my energy. I wanted a few words with this spider before the inevitable.
      I thought all this in just the span of a few seconds, so the next few minutes were dreadful, not knowing when or how the perfectionist would arrive. In a way I respected the spider for all its hard work, but I cursed fate that it should be me that fell victim to it.
      Minutes passed. Then what must have been hours. My struggling turned to dread and my dread to boredom. There was nothing to do. I was stuck in the inescapable and unbelievably sticky web. There was nothing to look at, only the small patch of yard that was visible from my prison in the bush. There was nothing to hear, only the occasional car passing by. There was too much to smell. The middle of a bush right after a rainstorm is not pleasant. I was really despairing, my boredom and suspense eating me alive like the spider sure to come.
      Suddenly, a new noise filled the air. The sound of footsteps and two-footers yelling in their booming voices. The next thing I knew, the calf of a two-footer emerges in my view. At least I’ll have something to watch now, I thought miserably. There was two of them I discovered, and every once in a while a racket would swing into my view and hit a sort of red ball with feather-like material after it. A kind of two-footer game, I guessed. Two-footers have lots of those; all critically endangering and life threatening to a fly. Well, usually at least. This was the one time that two-footers actually saved my life. Not intentionally, of course, but still I am grateful because as I watched, without hope, them play, the object they were hitting flew into the bush like a bird. It knocked me free from the spiderweb! Then, suddenly, while I was still recovering from the unexpected release, a more straight and symmetrical web passed over me. I recognized it as the racket that the two-footers were using, so I clung on for dear life hoping that it would pull me to safety. Which it did, for about a second. The next thing I knew, the two-footer had once again passed the red tipped flyer. Only, I was caught on it! For a precious moment, it felt like the best thing in the world. Then the fear took over and I was once again struggling to free myself from the trap. Strange, I thought, my savior is also my kidnapper. At last the wind blew me from the stronghold of the savior bird/ kidnapper, landing me safely on the semi-wet grass.
      The two-footers, oblivious to my life/death situation, played on happily, knocking the flyer back and forth while I took my time crawling away. I realized that those two, who'd nearly slain me earlier, were actually the reason I was still alive. How unlikely, I thought. In that instant, a massive black wheel revolved directly beside me, snapping me back to my life of avoiding and running, and reminding me that I'm never really safe.