Cloud

“It’s a yearly week of nuisance.”

I’ve reached the fruit fly portion of the summer. There’s always some piece of fruit that rots before I notice and sends a zillion fruit flies out into my kitchen.

Then they’re everywhere. I run the tap to fill the kettle and a cloud of them flies up from the drain and into my face. A few get in my nose. Always.

Open the trash. Cloud. Nose.

So then I ha…