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“Frankie watched the soft moths tremble and press against the window screen. The moths came every evening when the lamp on her desk was lighted. They came from out of the August night and fluttered and clung against the screen. "To me it is the irony of fate," she said "The way they come here. Those moths could fly anywhere. Yet they keep hanging around the windows of his house.” — Carson McCullers
Frankie watched the soft moths tremble and press against the window screen. The moths came every evening when the lamp on her desk was lighted. They came from out of the August night and fluttered and clung against the screen.
"To me it is the irony of fate," she said "The way they come here. Those moths could fly anywhere. Yet they keep hanging around the windows of his house.