Don't write at 1 in the Morning

"The Fly should die." Jonas stared, emotionless, at the withered wing.

"No!" The lady cooed. "It should live a full life."

"Hannah, there are thousands of flies that live full lives. Besides, this one will probably die soon anyway."

"We shouldn't be the ones to kill it." The fly tumbled across the desk waiving its healthy wing frantically. The withered wing remained motionless.

"We're putting it out of its misery." Jonas reasoned. "It will die of slow starvation with that wing."

"Fine." Hannah sighed tearfully. "But I won't watch."

However, she should not have worried. The fly tumbled out the window before Jonas could squash it.

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Once upon a time, in a land far away, a fly tumbled out a window. Unbeknowest to the fly, it fell through a window of magic into a world full of dragons and flying unicorns, a world of heroes and hags, of kingdoms and empty spaces. The fly did not know this. The fly, in fact, died of slow starvation three days later.

However, the fly is not important in our story. The boy, walking down the road near the fly, is.

Now the boy's name is Bob. A rather unimaginative name, but his mother was an unimaginative person. He, being just as unimaginative, decided to set out like the thousands of other boys in the land, to make a name for himself and seek his fortune. . .

Moral of this Story: Do not write a story inspired by an unfortuante fly at 1 in the morning.

Side Note: I did not kill the fly because the fly disappeared by the time I finished writing. I think he fell off my desk but for all I know, he may have tumbled through a magical window, lived longer than three days and declared himself king of Szcze Island.