Yesterday, a fly the size of my left foot whizzed by my perfect face and landed sideways on my bedroom window. This alone caused an anxious stir deep within me, as it would for you, I'm assuming. Depending of course on the size of your left foot.
What is cause for alarm, particularly what launched my career in the detective business, is the case of the missing fly. Where is that fly now? It never left my room, last time I saw the thing it was glaring at me through one of it's nineteen dozen eyes, and now I believe it to be somewhere where all missing house flies go.
The question remains-- where?
Take your anxious inner self and devote time today to solving this. Post a comment if you have the answer.
