One fine day, I was sitting in a quiet room at the Miclroft Hotel, a peaceful place about an hour out of Toronoto. It was just past noon, late July, and I was 1 ．to the desperate sounds of a life —or— death 2 going on a few feet away
There was a small fly 3 ．The whining （发出嗡嗡声） wings told the 5 ．But it' s not working．story of the fly' s strategy: Try harder the last of its short life' s energies in a useless 4 to fly through the glass of the window
