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Moth-man
I have a friend…
He taught me to love myself — — although we never met — — in person.
How can this be? That’s what I want to know!
He died — — Passe away, so the news reported.
So? My daughter visits — -Mother, you have a moth in the house.
What?!
Up there, on the wall!
Oh no! Here, give him a swat!
As I hand her a magazine rolled up. (No Fly-swatter).
SLAM! (missed!).
He backs up???
Do moths have big brown eyes? (crossed my mind).
Next day — no moth and the following day, no moth.
Oh! There you are, behind the door!
What do moths eat besides clothes? I’m guessing they don’t eat Polyester?
I turn on the water — just in case. And opened the front door.
Mom’s lost it!
Why not just smash his tiny self? We tried!
Two more days pass and no moth. Oh well…
And then, the craziest thing happened while sitting at the computer — Moth-man lands on my forearm, hops to my chest, my chin, my lips (where he did a little Happy dance), my nose, my forehead, and top of my head, then flies off into the kitchen and disappearing — again.
Several days later I found Moth-man behind the toaster — DEAD!
Was this a visit from my deceased friend?
I asked.
He grinned — in my minds eye!