Dear Fruit Fly,
I respect your presence on this planet, and I accept that you have every right to be here, in the same way that I do. You do not, however, have every right to be in my apartment. You do not live here. You do not pay rent, or pay for the groceries that you like to haunt. I did not invite you over formally or implicitly with ripening bananas. You have intruded, dear fruit fly, and have made yourself a constant presence in my kitchen and my bathroom. (Why are you in the shower, dear fruit fly?)
I apologize, dear fruit fly, for my erratic behaviour in the past. I know at times it looked like I took aim at you. I’ll admit it — we have come so far, why shouldn’t I be honest? — I intended to kill you. But that was before I sought to understand you, dear fruit fly, before I recognized your rights and mine. You have the right to live. I have the right to live in my apartment undisturbed. And so I write to you today to tell you that you are being evicted from my apartment unless you can make a contribution. Perhaps we can split the rent, or you can help me with my essay on Nietzsche.
If you do not abide by my wishes, I may be forced to look up those YouTube videos on how to take care of your fruit fly problem. But as my problem is with you and you alone, I thought I would be reasonable and address you directly. So please leave, fruit fly. You can leave through the front door to a paradise of apartments, or through the back door to the outdoors where I happen to know it snowed last night.
But while you’re still my six legged roommate, you might as well join me for breakfast. As I said, dear fruit fly, I’m reasonable. Maybe we can work something out.
Love, Courtney
Song of the Day: Welcome by Hey Rosetta!
