Sunday, November 12, 2006

The Fourth Plague

This morning, inexplicably and without warning, I find the basement filled with flies. Fat nasty bluebottles as big as your fingernail, sprung up overnight from who-knows-where. Yesterday, no flies in the basement; today, dozens of creepy crawlies parked listless on the walls, swarming in the window casement, climbing over the ironing board with their dirty feet, buzzing around the light fixtures.

I want to cry. Also, to throw up.

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