swarm

I automatically think 'fruit flies' when the cloud of dust flies up around my feet and when the flock of starlings lifts away from the roof of the old hospital next door. It's a familiar feeling, probably because the same swarms of little winged thoughts have been circling through my mind for weeks now. I'm setting traps, and the flying things are so easy to fool into complacency with sweet fruit, but they're never quite all gone. Just when I think I'm clear another I catch sight of another cloud poised for liftoff.