[1] The Moose & the Fly

A moose can feel a fly land on its antlers. So why can’t I feel when you leave the bed? There is resistance in the air, conflict between molecules who wish to occupy the same space. What about molecules who don’t wish to occupy the same space? The moose who wants no fly on its antler; the fly who wants no part of the moose. Maybe the moose calls the fly a parasite, annoying. The fly accuses the moose of moose-splaining. Is it possible to look the other way, find a new place to land for a while, thinks the fly. Is it possible to ignore this fly on my antlers, thinks the moose; or just accept its light presence on part of me that I can’t see? Where’s the harm? That field of grass looks sweet and green, the flowing stream, inviting. I’ll go with this flow. And so will I, thinks the fly, tasting sap on the antler’s tip through its feet in its brief world of silence before the moose enters the stream and the fly jumps backwards and flies off on its way.