Who is that guy sitting up there on the hydro pole every day? What's he doing up there? Where did he come from? Why is he there, anyway? Who sent him? The Watcher invites the reader to pause and consider the merits of quiet enjoyment, time set aside to meditate on matters of lasting value, and step back from the brink of being consumed by the fur-lined mad-house of today's society, one palpably designed to suck us into the maelstrom of collective cacophonous chaos.
Who is that guy sitting up there on the hydro pole every day? What's he doing up there? Where did he come from? Why is he there, anyway? Who sent him?...
Who is that guy sitting up there on the hydro pole every day? What's he doing up there? Where did he come from? Why is he there, anyway? Who sent him? The Watcher invites the reader to pause and consider the merits of quiet enjoyment, time set aside to meditate on matters of lasting value, and step back from the brink of being consumed by the fur-lined mad-house of today's society, one palpably designed to suck us into the maelstrom of collective cacophonous chaos.
Who is that guy sitting up there on the hydro pole every day? What's he doing up there? Where did he come from? Why is he there, anyway? Who sent him?...
From where do flies come? What do they eat? Why do they buzz in the ears and noses of those just nicely settled in for a nap? What do they do for entertainment besides buzzing around heads? Do they rent videos of that 1958 movie The Fly? Do they eat popcorn while they watch it? How many flies can one kernel of popcorn feed? Thankfully, Fly addresses exactly zero of the above matters, none of which contain much in the line of pitch or moment. Fly invites the reader to view the mundane and seemingly inconsequential from a different perspective. The book offers suggestion of what can be learned...
From where do flies come? What do they eat? Why do they buzz in the ears and noses of those just nicely settled in for a nap? What do they do for ente...
