I tell you, if I were a moth, when something startled me, I would not take off in a weaving criss-cross flutter flit, basically flickering through the same damn airspace back and forth - for all intents and purposes, executing a spaz hover pattern - hell no! I wouldn't be all, "oh, here I am! Flying around in your damn face for a while so you can draw a bead on me and then WHAM! clap your hands together smearing me into a splat of split wings and dusty little entrails across your palms! No way.
No.
As soon as I realized I was up in some big mammal's face-space, I would fold my wings in and drop, straight towards the ground, and then - barely four inches above the ground, say - I'd take off in a straight line as fast as my little moth wings could fly! Pick a direction any direction! If I hit your leg, fine, zip around and then straight off again! And not stop 'til I hit something I could hide behind. Sheesh.
Other moths would revere me. I'd be like a moth action movie superstar.
Except that would never work. Moth action movies. Action movies made to target the moth demographic. The movie screen and projection beams would be totally swamped with moths.
Gross.
1 comment:
The Moth by Aimee Mann is one of my favs.
Sort of reminds me of, well, me!
Post a Comment