The fly stopped crying.

Coco leaned as close to the orange as she could stomach. “I’m sorry I wrecked your house,” she said. She meant it. At least she thought she meant it.

Coco was not the type of girl to go around destroying other people’s things. She did once pour maple syrup into the air intake of an ex-boyfriend’s truck, but she was nineteen and vindictive then, so it didn’t really count. The fact that this was a fly’s house, in some strange unconscious hallucination, didn’t really make her feel any better.

The fly sat up, blew its nose into a section of orange peel and sniffled. “It isn’t the house so much. I mean, sure, it’s terrible to lose everything you own in one fell swoop.” He briefly shot her a dirty look before sighing and continuing on. “It’s just stuff. But I only have one week to live? I had a lot of things I wanted to do. Plans. Now what?” He slumped on his back four legs and let out a deep, exasperated sigh.

“I really am sorry.” Coco extended her pinky finger to pat the fly on the head in an attempt to comfort the insect. “I’ve had quite the day myself.”

The fly ducked under her finger. “Yeah, how’s that?” he asked, straightening up.

“Well, I’m here,” she said, indicating the dump.

“Big deal. Some people have real problems,” the fly said, dismissing her. He buzzed over to the pile of his demolished personal effects next to his crushed aluminum home. He landed and surveyed the wreckage.

“No, really.” Coco commiserated with the fly. She caught herself trying to converse and empathize with an insect, and she realized how desperate she’d become for companionship. She had been roaming the landfill for most of the day talking to herself. It was nice to have another voice respond. Even if it was a fly’s. “I was at work and something happened. I had an accident and I was electrocuted.” She gestured to her matted fried hair. “When I woke up I was here. They just threw me away.”

The fly nodded toward the silver high heels dangling from her hand. “Work, huh?” he scoffed.

Coco sat up straight and glared at the insect. “You know, it was an accident. I didn’t know you lived in that can. And in fact you probably don’t. You aren’t even real. You are part of this dream I am having. And I don’t care if you are mad at me. You’re in my head.”

The fly laughed and buzzed around her. “Did you hit your head, too? Lady, I’m just as real as you. As this dump.” he shouted over his shoulder as he flew in a small circle a few feet away.

“Whatever. I just want to go home.” she sighed.

The fly picked up a broken piece of furniture and examined it briefly. He turned it over before letting it fall back to the ground.

“At least you have a home,” he said, defeated.

“But I don’t know where it is. I don’t know where I am, or how to get from here to there. Or what is wrong with me. Why am I talking to a fly?” Coco said standing up and shaking her head.

“Pity?” the fly said snidely.

Coco sighed. Whatever was going on didn’t appear to be changing anytime soon.

“I really am sorry…fly.”

“My name is Rudy.”

“You have a name?”

“Of course I do. Don’t you? Let me guess.” Rudy buzzed around Coco’s stilettos. “Crystal? Roxy? Candy?” Coco shook her head “no” with each name.

“You seem to have a problem with dancers, Rudy. I don’t appreciate the attitude,” she said when he had finished.

“I had an ex. She was a stripper. You hear me? STRIP-ER. None of this dancer shit. You didn’t go to Juilliard. You’re changing the subject. Whaddya call yourself?”

Coco was suddenly embarrassed. She stared at the shoes in her hand. “Coco. Coco Darling,” she said.

Rudy snickered. “It could be worse. I once met a beastly woman who called herself Niqueollette,” he said. He spelled the name. “What a train wreck that broad was.”

“There’s a strip club around here?” Coco asked brightly. If there was a strip club nearby there was sure to be someone who could drive her home. Or at least point her in the right direction.

“There used to be one in town, but the Queen had it condemned. I moved out here when the Queen banished all flies. I moved farther away than the others so I could live in peace for my final days.” He cocked a fuzzy eyebrow at Coco. “But now I guess I have to head back. I can’t just sleep in the wild.”

“You can’t?”

“No! Would you? Would you just go sleep in a prairie? Doubt it.” Rudy started to buzz away.

“Wait! If you’re heading to town…” Coco paused. “Are there only flies in this town?” For all she knew “town” was an empty six-pack a few yards from where she stood.

“It takes all kinds around here,” Rudy said, looping through the air.

That was good enough for Coco. She followed him into the distant trashscape and hoped she would eventually find a way home.