The things that come out of Nick's mouth…you can't just make this stuff up.


We were in the car after an evening shopping excursion. We were both silent and listening to the quiet radio. Nick broke the silence, feeling the pull to confess his dilemma.

"There has been a fly stuck in my car."

I arched an eyebrow, not even turning to look at him as he spoke.

"Yeah. And I would shoo it outside, but it'd probably just DIE. I don't want that on me. I don't want to be a fly-killer."

He quieted. We let the radio fill the silence once more. I was forced to consider the plight of the poor fly for the rest of the drive.