There's a Fly in My Coffee

I'm blasting Fleetwood Mac on my Blackberry and working the 9-5 when from the corner of my eye I see something moving. Ever so gently do I see a small, calculating fly tip-toe on my mug of coffee. He seems to be making circles around the circumference of the cold joe, sniffing probably.

And what's the weirdest about this whole situation is my inability to shoo this fly away. I guess since he hasn't technically invaded my personal space, I haven't touched my coffee in about two hours, I'm not real threatened. But its not my tolerance that has caught me off guard right now, but rather my fascination with watching him, that has me questioning myself. Its a fly and yet I'm watching for his next move. Is he gonna go in another circle? When he dips into the coffee, does he like the taste? I can't exactly judge my the look on his face, now can I? Part of me wants to see him drown, the other part of me is impressed that he isn't clumbsy and hasn't falled in.

Mr. Fly has now made his way out of the coffee cup and is sitting stationary on my straw (from the orange juice I had earlier). Again, not in my personal space, but now closer to me than he was in the coffee cup. He rubs his two legs toether, like he's plotting something sneaky. I'm watching him more defensively now. I hope he hasn't gotten comfortable here. I wonder if he can sense my thoughts. For a moment, when I stopped typing it almost looked like he flinched. Is he waiting to reciprocate on my next move?

I have never befriended an insect (except maybe a lady bug at age 5) and I don't plan to start now. In fact, I'm starting to feel uneasy with his close presence. We look at each other (at least I think he's looking at me). And then, he flees. The fly flees. Away. And if he can read these thoughts, wont' be returning.