The Fly on the Window

So I was watching television and I paused it in order to get a drink of water when I heard this tiny, little, high pitched sound coming from the window. I walked over to it and saw my little visitor here, and now that I was closer, I could see the horrified look on his face as he clung to the outside of the slick, glossy surface of the glass some 50 feet above the street below.

He repeated his almost inaudible cry. "help me." 

"It's okay," I said. "You're a fly. All you have to do is let go."

"Oh." he said. "OK. Thanks." He dropped off the window. I looked down, but in a split second he disappeared, lost in the busy background of the street below. In my thoughts I wished him well, and I went to the kitchen, thinking that he was having a much more interesting day than I was.