One Small Fly

There's a fly on my computer.

One small fly.  It's even small by fly standards.

Why I see the images I see in my mind....  I see the fly flying into my mouth.  Not that I have to open my mouth wide to let it in.  Not that I even try to close my mouth to keep it out.  Not that I gulp it down or spit it out with a grimace.

The fly just flew in and out of my mouth just the same as if it were flying in and out of the house, through the sliding glass door in the dining room.  It was no big deal to the fly and it was no big deal to me.  I just kept on -- talking maybe -- like nothing was going on.

Of course, others would be disgusted by this.  But not me.

I was not talking.  Somehow, my hands were still working at the keyboard, typing the experience as it happened.  But my head was dead.  My mouth hung open and did not move - rigor mortise and all.  Somehow my eyes could still see.

So, my head was dead.  My face was dead.  My eyes could still see.  My mind could still think.  My hands could still type.  But the fly went in and out of the mouth on my dead face.  Landing on one corner of my mouth and walking around a bit.  Inside my lips.  Outside my lips.  Then buzzing around my dead mouth again.

No big deal to the fly.  No big deal to me.