Flies are hands-down the most annoying creatures on this planet. What possesses them to flit around a room, making the sound of a dentist's drill, sporadically landing on the window, the wall, the ceiling, the lamp, making an even MORE obnoxious sound--one that fools you into thinking that fly has been electrocuted, thus putting you out of your misery.
Wrong.
The fly is definitely not dead or electrocuted. It is just teasing. It will be silent for several minutes, feasting, I'm sure, on some tiny crumb left from a nibbled cookie. Or perhaps it found its way into the trashcan of leftovers and stink.
But most of all, I hate hate HATE the feeling of a fly--how it mounts the tiny hairs on your forearm, tickle tickle tickle. Then it skirts over to your leg--the sensitive spot on your calf, tickle tickle tickle.
I hate flies. And for some reason, my aim is terrible and I never kill them. I swat, bang bang bang! slap slap slap! thud thud thud!
and on the sucker goes, flitting and skirting and prancing around the room.
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