It
was as if by fluke, a fly in the dead of night seemed to seek out my screen and
land upon it. It was about the size of a cursor, thereby complicating issues even
further. It comes and goes…flitting on, and flitting off. Is it the cursor or
the cursed fly? At first I try to ignore it. But I can't seem to, because
of the buzzing. I can’t catch it, or smash it without risking my laptop, and if
I turn on the lights, it lights safely on the ceiling.
It’s
an untimely thing, and I grow more anxious at the annoyance.
I
have to stop. Take a breather, leave the room and wander, or sit and
contemplate. Just leave the fly behind. But first, open a window, and hope he
goes away. That just might work. Save us all some grief.
I
quickly close the door behind me, and walk down the stairs to the kitchen. I
put on a teapot, waited for it to boil, then steeped tea for a good ten minutes,
while staring out at the small garden courtyard, by yellow bug light, with nothing
really on my mind. I enjoyed the peace I found in doing.
I poured a cup and
took the tea back to my room. At the door, I stopped and listened - don't know
why, but I did. Then I slowly creaked it open. Only to find, to my great
dismay, I didn't have one fly, I now had eight.
V
