My darling Ilse

I wrote this on the 25th of last October at 12: 45 p.m. when I was laying sick in bed with rubella. In my isolation, I grew very fond of my small companion.

Ilse

Ilse, Ilse you wonderful being,

you’re only a fly,

so little and so brittle,

but so sweet and soft.

You are fragile and will stay just a fracture of time,

but I will keep you in my heart,

you taught me that even the most annoying thought thing is only misunderstood and

poorly treated and that not you are the one who is false, but the ones who flick you away.

How simple am I when a fly can teach me that?

And how much more don’t I see?

But I feel you,

I feel you not tickling my skin as to not bother, the same way you fly soundlessly.

Absurd for your nature.

But this doesn’t make you awkward, maybe for other flys,

but truly it makes you beautiful.

You create a bond that I am happy to share and surely only we understand.

You have given me more insight then most people do or most flys are probably willing to share.

I thank you for your trust.

I thank you for your presence.

I thank you for your spirit.

I may have saved you and your kind from my devilishly sweet drinks, but maybe because a fly's life is really short, light headed and lacks reason.

And a human's life is long and hard and full of responsibility.

Maybe that’s why you have given me so much more than I have given you, and all that despite your short time.

I hope you stay long,

I hope you are happy and although big and clumsy I can be your friend.