This little sucker was buzzing around my room the evening before, driving me crazy. I swung my blanket at him and knocked him out. sorry. I hate killing, but I imagined him vomiting on Pico's or my face as we slept and neither of us can handle another blemish.
His short life was worth ending that night though because his shell will live longer now than his fly spirit would have ever lasted on the streets on New York City... though there is a lot of shit to land on.
He was a beautiful shiny metallic green, so I put him on my windowsill, and not even a day later, he turned blue. I took his portrait.