Fly

He was already in the room when I came in. I didn’t see him enter but he was there nonetheless. I knew when I saw him that something was wrong. He wasn’t moving like normal. He was sluggish, slow, as if lingering in slow motion.

I looked away only for a moment and then when I looked back he was gone. My eyes darted back and forth searching for him but he wasn’t there. I let out a short exhale, a bit disappointed. Why? I wasn’t too sure exactly but part of me thought maybe I could help him.

I finished up and got ready to leave. I gave the room another look for any last minute corrections. I had hoped I might see him too but I didn’t. Off went the light and out of the door I went.

Days passed and I had forgotten all about him until I saw him again only this time he was dead. I was certain. Wedged between the window and it’s sticky covering, an opaque white, his small black body lay beneath. He had found the smallest opening, a corner peeling up towards the heavens, and up he traveled backwards to his final resting place. Such a strange place to pick, I thought. I wonder why. And backwards?

Ironic was his name unless his spirit remained free.