Take a careful look at this picture:
Same incident. After I sat back down on the couch, hours passed. I wrote some more, watched TV, drank more coffee. Then I glanced over at the scene and saw that the fly was gone. I couldn’t believe it. I got up to look closer. Yep, he’s gone.
Apparently, there is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination, and of flies that cannot be killed. It is an area which we call . . . the Twilight Zone.
Penultimate 