The girls are away at camp, which affords me and my wife some time alone. A rare thing since the birth of our first daughter in 2001.

Over the years, I’ve often wondered what our life together will be like when the children move on. After all, we’ve poured so much of our energy into this family. Sometimes I think we’ll grow bored of each other. Maybe even fall out of love.

As we were driving somewhere over the weekend, we got to the end of our street and she noticed a housefly hanging onto the glass on the outside of the passenger window. “Wow,” she said. “That’s some grip.”

I looked over at the disgusting black bug thinking about its sticky legs. “God, I hate flies,” I said.

She continued to watch the insect hang on for life as its transparent wings shook in the hurricane force winds while we traveled along at 30 mph.

“I mean, I get it. They have a purpose. But they’re so repulsive. And I always think about Jeff Goldblum whenever I see one.” I said.

We turned a corner, and amazingly, the creature continued to hold on to the smooth glass.

“What’s their purpose?” she asked.

“Breaking down organic waste,” I said.

As we approached a stop, she continued to watch the fly and ran her fingers on the inside of the window in admiration of the beast.

“Wow,” she said. “That’s a big responsibility for such a small creature.”

And then it flew away.



Jim Mitchem

A Dry Well
How To Write A Magical Blog Post Featuring #PokémonGo

Jim Mitchem

Writer. Father to daughters. Husband. Ad man. Raised by wolves. @jmitchem on twitter. First novel, Minor King, out now.

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