Phineas Fly

We have a sort of pet fly. Sort of. Well, he's dead, and has been since we moved in. But we still see him every day.

You see, he's stuck to the outside of the dining area door window, and he's stuck good. The torrential rain didn't loose him. Nor did winds strong enough to uproot trees. Sunshine, snow, heat, light, all mean nothing to him.

Normally I'd just go out there and remove him, but we have no deck , the door doesn't open yet, and he's pretty far off the ground.

So there he sits.

Heather named him Phineas Fly. We've grown attached to him, much as he's grown attached to our window.

Every day we check to make sure he's still there, watching our backs.