Dear Blog Land,
Today a fly landed on my backpack strap as I played guitar. At first, I tried to blow it away because I felt uneasy with it right in front of me. I mean, the thing didn’t move! It was like stunned or something. I tried scaring it by waving my arms. It stayed put. I tried rotating the chair to make it face the other side, and it moved it’s little insect legs and rotated to look at me. I thought to myself, Dang…you’re pretty ugly, but I guess you are my only audience tonight. I continued playing my guitar. He was big. I thought, maybe it had chosen to die frozen in time staring at me play guitar. Well, that’s pretty narcissistic of you! Was my second thought. It was there, in front of me…not moving. Aside from the fly, the only thing listening to my vibrations was the cat nuzzled under the table. I sang “Traveling Soldier” and “First Cut is the Deepest” to the fly as if it was the last thing on earth it would hear. I was sad for it. I was happy to play for something other than the walls. Then I remembered Lord of the Flies and the connotation with the title and I kinda freaked out a little. What are you? I thought to myself as I slowly let the guitar return to the wall and stopped singing. Blog Land, I think I watch too much True Blood” (re: shifters).