An Ode to Flypaper, the Perfect Tech That Asks for Nothing
“Guess,” says my boyfriend, as he now does every morning, before turning on the coffee kettle. “Fifteen,” I reply without looking up from my laptop. “You owe me ten bucks,” he beams. “Way over fifty.” He means fruit flies, of course. Ever since the downstairs neighbor asked us to remove the bird feeder (it was…
