Wow. I just had a buddhist moment.
When stepping out of my study confine, i saw a black , elongated smidgeon on the floor. It was THAT CLOSE from becoming mush between my toes. I peered closer, then yelped and sprang away. It was...a centipede.
With a single-mindedness driven by fear, i marched over and grabbed a tissue. There was an insane glint in my eye...murder was in the air. It's killin' time.
And so, with several ruthless and frenzied poundings, the bug was smooshed.
Or so i thought.
I held up the tissue to the light, just to make sure it hadn't made a mad dash and crawled up my arm to escape with its life. But no, it was there. I had crushed its lower half. It's upper half was still feebly wiggling. If a centipede had lungs, it would have been screaming.
I felt so bad. I checked closely- it was a centipede (1 pair of legs to a segment), not a millipede (which has two)- which means it was not dangerous. I should have let it outside. I killed an innocent. I'm a bug hitler!!
I couldn't let it go on like that. With tears in my eyes (no, i'm exaggerating) i slowly folded the tissue (my contracted brow of woe silently saying sorry) and hammered it once again.
It was no more. Instead of becoming mush between my toes, it was mush on a frail white square used for catching snot.
I'd rather think of it a white sail, gently sending it on the spiritual tides to bug heaven.
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