SO MUCH
That fly touched down on the
flypaper, just when it was new.
So much of life is timing, I then
realized. If the fly had waited a
week, with his voracious, slimy
appetite for crawling over things,
he'd probably have landed, with
no harm, on some old, dried out,
used up paper. No longer sticky.
Hardly flypaper at all.
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