A Fly Story

I just had to swat another fly.  The rain is making them horrible.  I went out to get the mail, and when I came back in I think three came in with me.  And that reminded me of a cute story.

When I was about 19 and still living at home, my sister Barbara (the artist/writer) went into my room while I was at work one day to borrow something.  When I got home from work, this is the poem I saw taped to my mirror:  

"I swatted a fly in your honor,

Although you were not here to know,

For you've robbed the house of your presence,

Having gone off to work long ago. 

I hope you are suitably humbled

By the honor I've heaped on your head;

For though the flies in your room may be many,

There's a dead one somewhere on your bed!"

                           By Barbara G. Dowell

I never did find that dead fly.