Fruit Fly

A greenish fly with golden eyes did chance to interrupt my sighs then buzzed away to investigate what next would prove to be its fate. I let him bite and rub a wing and thought how life's a fragile thing involving little bits of good that cannot last like wishes would. And I continued to contemplate this curious creature that came of late to use a precious part of life to see if I was food or strife or something that could be of use to a fly's short life of mild abuse. And I do not think it all for naught that he got but a single grain of salt.