Once upon a time
there was a Fly who nightly dreamed that he was an Eagle and that he found
himself flying over the Alps and the Andes. The first moments
of the experience always made him deliriously happy; but after a time he would
begin to feel uneasy, as he found the wings too long, the body too heavy, the
beak too hard, and the claws too strong. Indeed, all this great apparatus made
it difficult to settle comfortably on rich cakes or people’s turds, or to do a
conscientious job of bumping against the windows of his room. The fact was he
really didn’t like great heights or open spaces at all.
But whenever he
awoke he would deeply regret that he wasn’t an Eagle who could soar over
mountains, and was enormously sad about being a Fly—and this accounted for all
the nervous flitting about and spinning and buzzing, before he could slowly
settle his head onto his pillow.
Augusto Monterroso
1969
La oveja negra y demás fábulas/The Black
Sheep and Other Fables, translated
by Walter Bradbury
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