Lord of the Flies

I used to be more grossed out by bugs than I am now. I saw my first (surprisingly red) cockroach in Fiji crawling on my luggage. I was more impressed by seeing it than grossed out. Several spiders are now aware that I won't kill them, so we now hang out. The bees here are huge, but don't really bother me. They're like small birds. The one thing that does gross me out is flies.

They are also giant. They are about the size of the last section of my pinky. That's huge as far as bugs go, I think. Bees look almost fuzzy, dancing around the flowers. Flies just look big and black and oddly shiny. I mean, seriously, are they wet or something? Gross. This past Sunday, on the way to church, Kelley and I happened upon a small black pile of something. Turns out, it was flies. Gross. They were covering a small chicken bone or something, but the sound they made was absolutely disgusting. A whole heap of flies suddenly buzzing around, disturbed by our footsteps. Gross. Then we happened upon another mysterious pile of something. I'll call this one a large batch of what could have been chili, but with bigger chunkier bits. We didn't look long. The flies wouldn't even touch this one. On our way back, the birds had found it and were pecking away.

I'm not usually too squeamish. But sick. So now I think of flies as smaller vultures. And c'mon. Who doesn't think of the flies buzzing around the pig head from Lord of the Flies when they hear that much buzzing? I repeat. Gross.