Yesterday morning, shortly before 7:00 o’clock, I saw something that halts my way to work. It lied on the pavement resting on its belly at approximately two meters in distance from the office main door, just adjacent to the doormats.
A moth enfolded by its own wings, it must have been sleeping and forgot to wake up. But it seemed a peculiar moth-instinct which I believe they don’t normally act such. This kind of creature isn’t like humans, that’ll curls up and wraps up with blankets as if trying to ignore a deafening and activated alarm clock.
As it stayed motionless for several minutes on cemented passageway, I lost my patience to wait and witness it to be in motion, to see it possibly fly high past me in an abrupt way. And I came to conclude that it has been dead and done.
Its bearing posture says it all, for it should have spread its wings, and tacked on walls, revealing a single sign of life. But it hadn’t taken place. From there, my curiosity elevated from zero to turbo. So I tried to flip it up with a stick. It didn’t flinch a bit. I couldn’t believe it’s lifeless. Free of pain, cold and quiet.
But there’s one atypical thing on the moth’s behavioral quality that made me wintry inside. The behavior of it facing the direction where the sun rose upon its death, like a frozen compass pointing East, positioned like a bullet train, as if getting ready to head for its long journey to heaven…
No comments:
Post a Comment