Midsummer Murders

Or: What a little Sundew can do.

The Prey

I have grown tired of all this killing.

The slight dampening of the hands; the tense and silent waiting for prey; the coffee-fueled, lightening-fast reflexes required for a clean dispatch.

The manual, wholesale slaughter of fruit flies can be both physically and emotionally draining.

But I am pleased to announce that I am outsourcing my mass murder this summer, thanks to a very special birthday present from my friend Shannon, which we seem to have jointly and unimaginatively named “Planty”.

Madame Planty,