H&H Magazine
Lost and Found
Summer 2018
with his other hand, and then again, to prove it wasn’t a fluke. “This fly is a genius,” he said. “Ehh,” I replied, forking my eggs. I’d lost my appetite. I should also mention that this was the first time the fly, to my knowledge, had ever left my bedroom. I had previously held a certain level of respect for her, for not violating the other spaces of my home, but this unspoken trust was now broken. She clearly did what she pleased, without any thought of me. “A fly has never let me get this close before,” Tom confided. “They’re really not as gross as we think. I mean, look at the coloring. It’s quite beautiful.” Tom tried raising the fly to my eye-level, but she took off, flying back to my bedroom. “She must not like you,” Tom chided. He didn’t even notice the pained expression on my face. The workweek was a little easier for me. She still managed to distract Tom, though; resting on his knee during Jeopardy, performing tricks and air shows, gingerly batting around his frame. “You know they sustain themselves on shit?” I joked. “Eww,” Tom cringed. “Don’t say that about her.” His reaction made me feel like I’d become uppity. This wasn’t the only time Tom condescended to me. By Wednesday he’d begun carrying on one-sided, fake conversations with the fly. Their talks had started as a clever way to pay me compliments. “Oh, doesn’t my lady look gorgeous this morning,” he’d ask the fly. “You know, I think you’re right,” he’d say. “She does bear a strong resemblance to a young Grace Kelley.” It was sweet, and I didn’t mind so much, but the conversations soon took a cruel turn. The two of them began making inside jokes. I’d ask what was so funny and Tom would pat me on the head. “Next time, Honey,” he’d say, or, “you really had to be there.” It was belittling, and Tom appeared
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