A fly lands on the top of my foot. It looks like an ordinary house fly at first except for it’s singleness of purpose, bravery and tenacity, mostly its tenacity. Its attitude immediately tells me “this guy is a biter”. A familiar anger is triggered. ‘You jerk! I know What you are up to’ is my thought. ‘I’ll get you’… Wait… this is a problem… a quick Reassessment… ‘I am not the master of this situation’ I realize as reality sets in. All that I can do is stare at it. I wonder if many a warrior has had to come to the same conclusion during battles gone bad. Not much is written about this transformation of thought. The soldiers that have to come to grips with this don’t get to write the stories. I have to stare at the little cretin as it burrows into my foot. I can contemplate the vastness and the origins of the universe, but my adversary can put thoughts into consequential action.
We need to get you a salt gun!
Ugh – is there a voice-controlled “smart” fly swatter out there!? A fly-stalking dog?