While waiting to cross at a traffic junction on my way home just now, I saw what appeared to be a bent-over wasp in the throes of death. It looked really bizarre, that black bug, jerking around in a tight circle on the ground, so that I had to stare. No one else seemed to have noticed it, or, even if they had, were too preoccupied with the task at hand - crossing the road - to pay any attention to it. I, on the other hand, find bugs rather interesting (with the exception of roaches, because they are brown and big and flat and have disgusting hairy legs), so I was quite fascinated by it all.
But, upon closer inspection, it turned out to be not a wasp, but two of your standard-issue houseflies (they come free with the preserved salted fish), joined together to form one tiny insect beast. The reason why this beast looked bent was because one housefly was on top of the other - it was in throes, alright, the throes of passion.
It was quite cool, really. For them to choose to mate (well, not that they really did choose it, but you get my drift) right at this here traffic junction, for me to discover. But that wasn't what was going through my mind at that moment. I was thinking: Boy, it would be pretty easy to kill the both of them right now, since they are pretty much grounded. (Because I've had this weird preoccupation with killing houseflies, once killing a few which were trapped in a packet of preserved plums or something like that at my neighbourhood grocery store, smashing them to bits with my fingers. No escape. And then this other time, when a buzz of flies followed us up a tour bus because we'd been to some place that flies like to be, I trapped them behind the curtains of the bus, one by one, and squashed each to death. No, I am not proud.) But then I thought it'd be really cruel to kill them while they were mating. And not very fair, too. A right tragedy it would be to die in the throes of passion.
But, upon closer inspection, it turned out to be not a wasp, but two of your standard-issue houseflies (they come free with the preserved salted fish), joined together to form one tiny insect beast. The reason why this beast looked bent was because one housefly was on top of the other - it was in throes, alright, the throes of passion.
It was quite cool, really. For them to choose to mate (well, not that they really did choose it, but you get my drift) right at this here traffic junction, for me to discover. But that wasn't what was going through my mind at that moment. I was thinking: Boy, it would be pretty easy to kill the both of them right now, since they are pretty much grounded. (Because I've had this weird preoccupation with killing houseflies, once killing a few which were trapped in a packet of preserved plums or something like that at my neighbourhood grocery store, smashing them to bits with my fingers. No escape. And then this other time, when a buzz of flies followed us up a tour bus because we'd been to some place that flies like to be, I trapped them behind the curtains of the bus, one by one, and squashed each to death. No, I am not proud.) But then I thought it'd be really cruel to kill them while they were mating. And not very fair, too. A right tragedy it would be to die in the throes of passion.
1 comment:
Heh. I certainly didn't mean it that way - to kill them in the midst of a climax. But dying during one would be a thought indeed. Anyway, what I meant was, it wouldn't be giving them a fair chance. Heck, the whole point of them mating would be to carry on living! Albeit in the form of their offspring...
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