ASHEVILLE, NORTH CAROLINA — Having no real objective or impetus for its intrusion, a common housefly infiltrated the home of Joan Rhodes early Sunday afternoon without putting any consideration into a logical plan for eventual departure.

“I’m not really sure what I’m doing in here,” said the disoriented, cavalier female diptera as she buzzed aimlessly about the craftsman-style home. “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but it turns out this is a pretty hostile environment for me.”

Although the 12-hour-old housefly had previously inhabited the unrestrained entirety of the outdoors, the shortsighted pest opted to cede its freedom by entering Rhodes’ modest one-bedroom home through the two-inch gap of an open window, leading to an agonizing, days-long, bungled misadventure that has no hope for a happy ending.

“I don’t understand how anything works in here,” said the shellshocked schizophora that has been dodging attacks from a variety of low-tech, improvised weaponry brandished by the homeowner, narrowly avoiding deadly encounters with clandestine spiders, and incurring head trauma from repeated attempts to escape through what can only be described by the fly as “invisible barriers”.

“I have no idea how to get out of this mess.”

One of the more haunting discoveries made by the hapless insect was that of several long-dead fly carcasses tucked away in dark corners of the human domicile, lending credence to the critter’s theory that her involvement is part of some sort of unfulfilled legacy.

“It doesn’t look like they figured a way out of here, either,” muttered the bug through its elongated proboscis. “Maybe there isn’t a way out.”

Acknowledging the ending of its life-term, the fly decided to lay some eggs and hope that future generations would develop an appropriate solution.