I sure am a city slicker… or rather a pampered suburbanite:
Yesterday I went for a walk on an unpaved path: it was a thin trail of dirt that meandered through the woods; it had long weedy grass on either side of it, and wild bushes, brush, vines, and trees hanging over it; and there were crazy little frogs, as small as a fingerprint, hopping everywhere.
Right at the onset of my venture, I heard a buzzing noise: it was deep and low, caused by a meaty insect. I couldn’t get a look at the thing, but it kept pestering past my ears; so I started walking faster, hoping to lose it; but it followed me and directly dive-bombed my head. (I felt the impact.) This frightened me.
The bug then repeated this onslaught, so I swung my hand in a panic and actually made contact: I batted it, physically; and the feel of its girth made me shiver.
Soon I was striding long and fast, hoping to escape from the forest…
(I should mention that this altercation will lack a proper climax, for I eventually did make it home safely; but my moment of epiphany was as follows.)
Next the insect landed straight in my hair and began to gyrate. I lost my composure. To avoid touching the thing again, I shook my head spasmodically. This act expelled not only the offender but also my eyeglasses. (I’m practically blind without my eyeglasses.) Now this violent creature is determined to make a journey to the center of my brain; and my corrective lenses are lost on the floor of the jungle, so all that I can see is a vast smooth blur. (Truth be told, the vision was gorgeous: I thought, This is what it is like to be “born again.”) So I got down on my knees and started to grope around in the weeds and the poisonous ferns and among the anthills…