Lady of the Flies

They adored her. How could it be otherwise? After all, she was their Lady, their Queen, their ruler. How many generations of flies had been born, lived their lives, and died beside her? It was hard to say. But did it matter? The flies, in any case, didn't bother with such matters. Their lives were too short, their deaths too violent, and their memories didn't reach far. One thing they knew for sure: they loved her. Until the moment she appeared, their lives had been meaningless, unnecessary, even undesirable. They were born anywhere, lived however, and died just the same. Now all that was in the past. They could return here after a grueling day, perch on her arm or leg, or some other part of her body. For they knew she certainly wouldn't drive them away. She even took off her clothes for her, to make more room for each of them. Their community has grown so large that for one of them to even sit on their Mistress, they must constantly change. And so, one flies around its Mistress, the next another. It was she who created this community. It was she who made such a community possible. She feeds them, she gives them a love no human has ever bestowed on a fly, she raises them. They are grateful to her for all this and are ready to die for her at any moment, and for her, if need be.

She wasn't like other people, who, whenever they see a fly, immediately look around for a flyswatter, newspaper, or some other weapon. Some of them spray various poisons in the air, others hang scented glue strips. Traps from which there's no escape, and death lurks. These people can then watch for hours as their poor fly sisters die. Others catch flies, rip off their wings and legs, and leave them there without food or water. Sometimes someone will throw such a suffering fly into a spider's web, where a starving beast awaits, but such death can seem like salvation for flies, who, without legs or wings, can't even buzz to announce to the world how cruel humans are.

Another fly's day begins, and when it ends, the flies will buzz, returning to their home again. To their mistress. Home.

Two men made their way through the thicket of trees. They had gone mushroom-picking in the forest early one morning. These coastal forests were famous for their bounty of butter mushrooms. In a few days, their tour would end, and they wanted to gather some of the local delicacies to dry. It would be shameful to show up to the neighbors without a decent amount of dried mushrooms. Their wives didn't want to get out of bed at such an ungodly hour, so they went alone.

"I can just imagine my Teresa strutting to the neighbors about how many mushrooms she's collected. She always does that, but she doesn't feel like walking through the forest and checking under every bush. She'd rather sleep in." One of the men said. He was about fifty, bald, and wore glasses. He was wearing sweatpants and a nylon jacket in case it started raining.

"Well, now I know why these ladies of ours hit it off so well." The second man joined in the complaints. This one was a few years older than his traveling companion, but looked younger. He didn't wear glasses and wasn't bald. Besides, he'd had it better in life, too.

"Look, Antoni!" The younger one stopped.

"What's that, you found a giant mushroom?

" "No, it's just a shoe. A woman's shoe. It looks fairly new.

" "Do you think some young lady dropped it here?

" "Who knows?" Maybe it's one of those young ladies who arrived a week ago?

- No. Where is it? This one is completely muddy, and it hasn't rained since they arrived.

- Maybe from some earlier session?

- You. Kazimierz. Something so daydreaming? Are you having some lewd thoughts? Hey, Kazimierz, Kazimierz. If your Teresa found out.

Kazimierz didn't reply. He just blushed.

- There's another shoe here. Well, we have both of them. It looks like we must have had a good time.

- Stop it, Antek. And you're the one accusing me of lewd thoughts? Look at the tree over there. - Kazimierz pointed. - Is that what I think? Yes, those are stockings. Women's stockings.

- I mean, we're on the right track. I wonder what we'll find next?

- I bet it's panties. The lacy kind.

- What are you talking about? Don't you know that young ladies don't wear those anymore?

"So what do young ladies wear these days?

" "Those panties that leave your whole butt hanging out. They're called thongs, or maybe twings. Something like that.

" "You mean your whole butt hanging out?

" "A belt around the hips, a belt in the back, and a bit of material in the front. I guess to cover something. But with that much material, it's hard to cover anything.

" "And how do you know all this? Huh? You lecherous old man? Have you been going to stores and trying them on?

" "Nooooo. I have two daughters. And they walk around the house in something like that. And imagine, they're not ashamed of their old father at all. That's the kind of thing we have in our day..."

He didn't finish what happened in their day, because they came across a dress lying under a tree.

"So, next up will be panties," finished the man with two daughters.

"Or maybe a bra? Exactly. And what do bras look like now? I'm asking because I only have a son.

" "Bras, I guess they haven't changed that much." Although, do I know?

"Damn, something stinks. Do you smell it?

" "I smell something? Probably some dead animal. It's this heat. But a bra after all."

"What, a bra?

" She took off her bra. There's a bra hanging on the bush over there. See it?

" "Aha! Indeed. So now it's just panties. What a stench. My nose's about to fall off.

" "Where did all these flies come from? And how big they are. That bra is quite nice. Oh, and there are panties too. Just as I thought. Twigs. What? Why are you standing there?

" "Look at that tree. There's something hanging over there.

" "It's not something, it's someone. A hanged man, isn't it?

" "A hanged man? But why is he so black?"

"I don't know. Let's get closer.

" "Well, I don't know.

" "Are you scared? We have to find out what or who it is if we want to report this later."

They moved closer. More and more flies were buzzing around their heads.

"Jesus, what's with the flies?"

They came even closer and knew why the hanged man was so charming. He was covered in flies. The flies left no part of his body free. Suddenly, it seemed a little darker. The air was swarming with large, buzzing flies. They began to settle on the men and crawl over them. Some tried to get into their noses, others into their ears and mouths.

"I can't stand it!" shouted the older of the two. "Let's get out of here. These flies are terribly annoying."

They both waved their arms, trying to swat away the flies, but their efforts were in vain. There were more and more flies. Finally, both men fled. And the flies were now buzzing around their Lady, their queen, their ruler. They buzzed and buzzed. If anyone listened carefully, they might have heard, "Leave our Lady alone. Leave her alone! She is ours. Ours."