Once the water spraying out of the shower head began to steam, Jeff pushed his underwear down and kicked them off before stepping into the tub. Scalding water pricked at the skin of his back like flaming needles and he flinched forward, away from the pain, pressing himself against the coolness of the blue tile. Reaching behind him, he fumbled blindly to adjust the lever-like knob to a cooler temperature. After a few seconds, the sound of the water moving through the pipes underwent a subtle shift in pitch,and Jeff knew that it was safe.

He stepped directly underneath the shower head and let the warm water massage his back. As he rolled his head around, stretching the muscles in his neck, he realized that he was not alone.

A dead fly, trapped on a small dry island of porcelain, lay on its back, all six legs stuck in the air.

Cupping his hands against his body, Jeff made a reservoir for the water to fill and after a moment, let the water go all at once.

The fly floated like a tiny boat down the drain.