I was floating around in a pool one time, by myself. I wasn't dead or anything, just sort of floating around like the last Crunchberry in a bowl of milk, slowly getting a horrible sunburn. It was very, very quiet. I could hear the tiniest ripples striking the walls of the pool.
It was scorching hot in the sun, so I'd floated into a little shady spot where I happened to spot a fly, stuck on its back in the water and struggling to get out. I was just inches away.
Not wanting him to suffer, I gave him a bit of a nudge towards the wall. I watched him climb up, over the lip of the pool and onto the pavement.
He slowly and carefully dried his legs and wings, got them un-stuck and got his bearings. He shook his head, cleaned off his eyes, turned around... and walked straight back into the water. Bloop!
I was like... "Dammit..."
So I gave him a bit of a nudge toward the wall. He got a purchase on it, climbed out, over the lip, dried himself off... legs, wings, eyes. It all took quite a long time. Still too soggy to fly, apparently, he started walking along the pavement. I floated soundlessly in the pool next to him, mesmerized by the spectacle of it, my face still just a few inches away watching his little life unfold before me.
I saved his life twice. By that time I felt that I had a vested interest in the affairs of this particular fly. He and I had been through so much together! I wonder if he was grateful?
He never said anything. Just walked down, turned the corner and BAM! Got nailed by a spider. It scared the ever-loving crap out of me. The spider jumped him from just out of the corner of my vision, inches in front of my face; wrapped him up and hauled him off to parts unknown.
I am still emotionally scarred from that experience. That poor unlucky bastard.
TSN
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