The cheese.

A word consumed my mind, inspiring a hunger which I had to satisfy. "Brie". The cheese. Delicious. French. Cheese, which I greatly anticipated eating. I thought about how its white fluffiness would look spread evenly across a lightly toasted cracker. I even pondered how the first bite would ignite a flame in my mind. Not a morsel would remain.

Walking through the market with flinted focus. A small section waited, which housed several types of cheeses, but ultimately the object of my affection. My eyes scanned the assortment until finally there she was. Brie.

I picked up a large triangle of the dairy delight, devouring every inch with my eyes, in anticipation of the forth coming feast. Just as I was ready to walk away I spied a fly. The small insect, normally attracted to disgusting piles of garbage and other excrement. However, this appeared to be a fly, that could not "fly". Normally, the insects would flee, buzzing around the room until they find a proper landing spot, but this fly, would not "fly". He walked slowly on my presumed piece of cheese. This fly, with all seeing eyes, wouldn't fly. Not even when I moved my finger to touch it.


Suddenly, my mind is not consumed with a hunger I had to satisfy. It was now occupied with the tragic tale of this fly. Was it pregnant, and unable to move? Had it damaged its wings in a flying incident? Had it eaten too much brie? Had anyone seen it before? What would happen to it after I left?

I thought about buying the cheese, and taking it outside so the fly could be in its natural habitat, but to put him in the wild, without his natural ability to fly, would be unnatural. Almost as awkward as finding him on a piece of cheese. This fly, will die.

I walked away. I bought cue tips, body wash, deodorant, and a pack of aranciata soda.  There was no brie on this day.