The Fly buzzes to and Fro, unaware of the fate that waits.
Fluttering wings bringing it closer to the end.
Happily it streaks through the air.
Gallantly it flutters until it finds it can no more. Stuck, paralysed.
Caught tight in the unforeseen trap.
It sees its predator approach, powerless to stop her.
‘I’ve been waiting for you’ she hisses. ‘I’m positively famished!’
Remnants of the moth still cling to the fine strings.
But it is the fly that is tonight’s delight.
All eight legs tremble in eager anticipation.
It has been a fine life the fly has had.
Seen so many things, been many places.
Now it has come to an abrupt and rather sticky end.
Death approaches in the form of the horrific arachnid.
Good night little fly, time to go.
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