A fly was soggy on the cantaloupe.  She had long eyelashes that clung to her face.  She stuck to anything that touched her.  

She was without bones.  She was a black more solid than darkness.  Her face was hard to tell from her body. Her legs were folded in and splayed out.  

People could barely see her.  She was a lump and no longer alive.   A person's finger nudged her, to tell what she was.  She kept falling back to the cantaloupe, and it was sexy, cause she had long eyelashes.  Her falling to the cantaloupe was like a women collapsing into bed, over and over again, except she was dead.  

A person's fingers tried to get her from the cantaloupe.  The cantaloupe was in pieces, was rounded from sitting in itself.  It was in a glass bowl.  It seemed very domestic.  The fly stuck to the finger and was wiped onto the Ceran wrap.  

The wrap was clear like a dream.  The wrap got caught on itself in a way that made a sound. When stretched taught, the wrap felt proud like a drum.  The wrap knew what it was doing.  

The wrap was not without pride, but days later it clung to itself and smelled like something else, then was gathered and balled and tossed in with the trash.  The sexy fly laid on the wrap and did I mention she was wingless?

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