Do Flies Feel Shame? And do they have dreams?

Sounds like a mad question but I swear I recently saw a fly cowering from his fly friends in shame. 

The break room in the seed factory I worked in has a fly problem. To call it an infestation would be an exaggeration but even as few as 5 flies, milling around and trying to land on you or your food every 15 seconds is enough to warrant anger, frustration and disgust. No matter how much insect killing spray or energy you expel swinging a rolled up newspaper, they return the next day. I am fully aware that they are unlikely to be the same flies.

As I sit eating my drab lunch of pasta and roughly chopped tinned tomatoes, which incidentally the flies find infinitely more appetising than me, and drinking my 3^rd cup of tea of the day and I observe what I am going to call a family of flies. Much like the gulls in Sydney's Darling Harbour there seems to be some kind of hierarchy and even though they seem to fly around haphazardly there appears to be animosity amongst their group.

Every now and again, when 2 of them get close enough to each other one leaps on the other and they wrestle around for a few seconds.

This particular day was much like any other, flies were buzzing and I was, as I have mentioned on my 3^rd cup of tea when 2 flies began wrestling and a few seconds later. when it was all over (although it may have lasted hours in fly time, I'm not quite sure how it works) one flew away, apparently victorious and the other turned to face the end of the table they were fighting on and stood still, facing away from the table and away from the scene where the other flies were going about their usual, dirty business.

Now this may sound mad but as I looked at this lone fly, humiliated by one of his fly brothers he looked sad and ashamed. Perhaps it was contemplation on his face, perhaps he was deciding if this is what he wants to do with his life, buzzing around all day every day avoiding the wrath of the newspaper and wrestling for scraps of food with other, apparently stronger flies. There should of been some soft music, maybe with a saxophone solo in the background as a camera slowly panned and tilted around his head, showing that he had had enough of this life and then, as the music became more hopeful he would fly off into the sunset leaving behind all this bullshit and off to a new life, to the big city where there were more opportunities for a young fly. Perhaps it was the fact that his behaviour was so strange, the motionless figure had never before been so still that he looked  dejected and depressed. I swear he flew off in the direction of the vent in the wall that leads to the outside, to the city and to a better life.