There is no time for indecisiveness when your whole life is only twenty-four hours long. Zuzu the May fly knew within ten seconds what she wanted to do. Granted ten seconds is like four years to other species, but still, pretty impressive.

Zuzu was born in a cloud. I suppose at the start of life everything is a bit fuzzy. Bursting to life within pillar of hundreds of thousands of buzzing siblings is no different. There’s a brief time in which to revel in the strange fact of being alive before you realize the weight of it, given into ones hands by ones parents to be spent. Imagine how much faster that process becomes when faced with living, breathing and dying within twenty-four hours!

So, without hesitation, and faster than it took to read the sentences written above, Zuzu proclaimed above the buzzing of her hundred thousand close relations that she would like to see the sun set over the ocean.

There was at first a second of silence, incredible for so many flies.

“It’s a waste of time” Zuzu’s closest relative said, “can’t be done.” By closest, I mean nearest, for who has time to form tight personal bonds with a newborn when you’re a may fly who might be dying in less than one minute.

“I think I’ll try anyways” Zuzu spared a moment to reply, and without another second to loose, Zuzu flew from the cloud towards the horizon.

I should have asked for directions, Zuzu immediately thought.

A few miles later, the sun ominously hanging directly above like an anvil in a cartoon, Zuzu paused. This was undeniably a tipping point, a razors edge upon which the dream wobbled uncertainly. To continue meant only a grim, slim chance of finding that sunset glazed ocean, since the sun refused to be of any use direction wise for at least an hour, and even one hour is farcically precious when one’s whole life is a time table as restrictive as Zuzu’s meager twenty-four hours.

I mean, good God! Zuzu thought. A tangle of frustration, fear, and the haunting possibility of quitting’s relief came rising to the surface of her multiple eyes. “It’s a waste of time” rang in Zuzu’s memory, followed by the statement “It can’t be done”; a thought Zuzu almost felt solidify inside.

For the first time Zuzu thought, wings are too light to carry this weight, promptly settling down in the shade of a tree leaf. Zuzu stared out at the land around her wondering if it was worth a whole life to continue to search for the ocean.

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