A fly is loose, thumping against the window, his speech more hissing than buzz. He pauses, collects his wits maybe, then head-bumps the glass again. One of the last things you told me was how trapped you felt. In the photos I’ve seen of you now you are never not smiling.
I watch the fly a second more before smashing it with my shoe.
Len Kuntz is a writer from Washington State, USA. His work appears widely in print and online. He’s also an editor at the online lit journal Metazen. You can find him at http://lenkuntz.blogspot.com.