[ WP ] A eulogy for a fly you just killed

To my constant companion for these past few weeks: I ’ ll miss the time we shared, your constant antics and surprise lessons. 
 
 From the way your fingers bumbled through my hair, to the way you lit upon my sunny windowsill without a care. No matter how many times I wished to show you the outside world, you always clung to that window, bewailing your fate if I ever left you alone. You gave me my first glimpse of parenthood ( and reminded me how I never wanted to be one ). 
 
 For the times you mooched food off me, and I let you because you were too fast for my rebuke. You gave me the confidence to try out dozens of new recipes—and given how many times you came back, I must be a terrific cook. ( Either that, or your palate is rather ill-refined. ) 
 
 For the moments you kept me awake at night or quiet-time to play a rousing game of chase. I never imagined it was possible to get such good cardio in the confines of my dorm room. Your endless chatter was like music to my ears, a symphony ( very ) cleverly disguised as cacophony; and it served the perfect lullaby, for those blissful moments in which I heard it not were the moments when I was most at ease. 
 
 To your incredible agility, and your insistence that I learn the same. Again, I never knew it was possible for a tiny dorm room to become a gym. You ’ ve shown me places I never knew existed in this below-200-square-foot space. I have never had more dogged a personal trainer. 
 
 To your incredible physiology, and the meticulous way in which you maintained it. It must be quite a chore to keep so many moving parts clean. I envy you your multitudinous limbs and wings—how easy it would be to drink a cup of coffee and game and do work at the same time, and to simply fly to class when the roads are frozen or backed up with traffic. 
 
 I thank you for the opportunity to touch your gossamer wings, to marvel at how such tiny things, smaller and lighter than your body, could propel you so swiftly through the air. Normally, you ’ re too fleet-footed for me to do this, but when I told you, you graciously slowed down for me so that I could study and even hold them. You renewed my interest in aerodynamics at a time when my motivation was most lacking ( winter semester, finals season ). 
 
 I thank you for the opportunity to grasp them, to tear them from your thorax with delicious slowness, before grinding your sorry carcass beneath the heel of my fur-lined boot and vacuuming up the chitin and ichor. 
 
 Because while you ’ re beautiful in your own way, while you ’ ve taught me things I would not otherwise have learned, you ’ re also a massive pain in my rear. 
 
 But don ’ t fret. I ’ m sure your children will take up your mantle come spring. 
 
 I'll be waiting... 
 
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 This was quite fun to write, though when I first read this, I misread `` eulogy'' as `` elegy''. Whoops. 
 
 Can you feel the /s in this? The narrator tries to make this all serious, but slips up and in the end gives up. XD 
 
 /r/Nintendraw
