A female blue bottle fly has just laid her eggs in a rubbish bin outside the Johnson family home. She flies in through an open window and finds a young boy lying on a bed. Weaving through the air, she is free and vibrant; her buzzing wings resonate around the room. A rolled-up comic misses her by inches. "That was close!" she thinks. The boy, now standing on the bed, attacks her fervently; but being accustomed to the intolerant behaviour of humans, she flies higher and faster. Buzz, buzz, buzz. She lands on a picture of Grandma Johnson hanging on the wall. Clinging to its glass cover, she gathers her wits. The boy launches himself at the picture but she moves just in time. Boom! The picture falls and smashes on the floor. The boy's cry echoes in her tiny fly brain. "That voice!" she thinks, as she flies to the other side of the room; "I know that voice." She lands on a table and desperately tries to remember where she has heard it before. This time the boy is faster and her wings don't react quick enough. With one almighty thwack, the boy crushes the life out of the blue bottle's fragile body. Then he kneels down by the broken picture and looks at the smiling face of his deceased grandmother and begins to sob quietly.