They said it couldn’t be done. But I’ve shown them all! I, Miguelito Loveless the Fifth, have proven them all to be fools and cowards!

After that moron, Brundle, met his well-deserved fate, the naysayers had their day. Bah! Idiots! The key was not transference of matter, but transference of mind!

Why do I tremble? Ah. Likely just the acclimation of my mind to its new neural pathways.

Just as I thought—the compound eyes of the fly do not resolve the world into hundreds of discrete, hexagonal images any more than human eyes resolve patterns into two separate images. To see in all directions at once—magnificent! Never have I felt so alive!

What’s this? I sense the presence of another. An unexpected boon! The mind of the fly is able to sense the presence and thoughts of its comrades! There, on the wall—and in the yard, behind the shed, I sense a multitude, a veritable army, gathered together, swarming over a… a dead…

Well. Feeding may present an aesthetic challenge.

View this story's 4 comments.