Fly in the Water

I recently ran my first half marathon for no reason. It was late, I was bored, and I couldn’t see a reason to stop after I’d finished the usual four kilometres. It was a fairly good time, though there was a point at which my leg sleeve started to slip, and I feared that it would fall and force me to stop. Fortunately, it stayed up for the entire night because it loves me. I think that there’s a beautiful kind of purity to the love I share with that fluffy thing.


I also got lost around Kipling because of that maddening loop thing and the transition from Bloor to Dundas. I thought that I was continuing along Bloor, but I’d actually failed to make the switch to that street’s new path. When I realised my mistake, I ran up a tiny road by the name of Aukland and turned east on Bloor until I reached that loop again. I actually tried to consult my phone’s map at that point, but that failed miserably because traffic loops are even more incomprehensible without any representation of depth. I ran around the loop and returned to Bloor, but my divided attention must have caused me to inadvertently invert my map. I dropped my phone around that time too. Maybe that did it. In any case, I didn’t realise that I was heading west again for a fairly long time. I passed Aukland again, but there was some part of me that believed that Aukland was doing that whole Dundas thing of twisting around on itself, and that part convinced the rest of me that Aukland was indeed long and circuitous enough to intersect with Bloor twice in the space of a mile.


When I found myself among suburban lanes, I finally admitted that this was a part of Bloor I had not previously encountered. Checking my map again, I discovered its inversion and turned around there. My third encounter with the overpass wasn’t completely free from confusion, but I was able to deal with it and continue east. Things were alright after that. I stopped around Keele, drank nine cups of water, and proceeded to walk home.

Anyway, I arrived in my room to find  a fly on the inside of the cup of water that I’d left there earlier. I was thinking that it might still be alright if I could just get the fly to leave the cup, but when I tried to blow the arthropod away, it fell into the water. That destroyed any willingness I might have had to drink from that mug, and I let the water sit for a while instead. When I finally got up in the morning and poured the water out, however, the fly revealed that it was still alive and flew away.

Copyright © 2011, Jaymes Buckman and David Aaron Cohen. All rights reserved. In a good way.