Home » Archive » Frienemies » Page 1


Page 1

Susie Chong



Buzz twitches his hind legs and sighs. The light from the fiery ball above reflects off his metallic green thorax, intensifying the colour. Hovering below is his companion, Winger, who is surveying oval and elongated mounds—spongy and moist—that the giant fur-covered beast has produced. The stench fills the air. Suddenly, Winger dive-bombs and disappears into the gooey substance. Saturated, he emerges, the hairs bend under his body. ‘Awesome,’ he exclaims, and takes off before plunging into another pile.

Buzz settles on a succulent with wide, ovate leaves. As a newly, metamorphosed blowfly, there are many things he does not understand. It’s unusual, but faeces don’t appeal to him. He can’t understand how maggots and pupae, feed on this matter and carrion, even though he was once these things.

Both of them have caught a ride along the northerly gusts. Buzz wants to confide in Winger about his unusual experiences, but he isn’t sure if his friend, being a typical blowie, will understand. His thoughts are distracted by a loud slurping noise.

‘Over here,’ Winger calls out. ‘It’s a banquet’. Winger is feasting on pieces of rotting apple, remnants that the feathered ones have left on the ground. He vomits onto a morsel, turning it into a watery substance and then sucks up the salivary, appetizer with his proboscis. Buzz joins him. He can’t resist sugary, plant materials either.

Buzz heard from fellow flies of an attack. A blowie was hovering nearby piles of human food when it was drenched in a shower of stinging drops. Its spiracles were blocked, causing it to zigzag, accelerate and perform loops in the air, before it smashed into a wooden structure. The victim’s thorax, abdomen and legs were crushed. Buzz doesn’t want to think about it. The spongy section of his mouth is dry.

‘Winger,’ Buzz announces, ‘I have to tell you something.’


‘I’ve been observing the humans.’

Winger’s antennae below his eyes, stretch and contract. ‘They are our enemies, an abomination. Do you want to be exterminated or have your wings ripped off by the BB (Big Blowies)? Keep them shut and stay away.’ 

Page 1

This edition