Today, a man lay down.
I saw him, through a glass, brightly.
In the park, on the ground. In a trench, on a balk? I couldn’t see.
He lay in a vigorous motion, though he was still. He held on to the earth to not be wrenched from it.
He was in a perfect spot of sun. A perfect spot of end-of-summer grass, thick and soft. Packing the soil with his weight.
A man in a suit. Rumpled. Shoes removed. Cast off? Arms outstretched and his cheek on the grass, giving him succor. Castaway.
Who was next to him? Was he alone? Is he beloved? Was this a stop on the way? Is he nice? A crank? Is he anyone? Where did he come from?
He answered me not, but there was a smile on his face, a happiness to light the Kingdom of Heaven.
What did he fear, I wonder. What does he hope?
Today I commanded ladybugs.
I collected them for my roses. For the aphids, actually, their translucent bodies blending into the stalks and killing their erstwhile hosts.
Such selfishness, aphids.
Thus I sought and summoned the destructive and voracious appetites of ladybugs.
I plucked them from other people’s roses, one by one. Gently. I whispered to them. Possibly, the magnificent tone I used subdued them. I commanded their future, and then it struck me: I would command their life. They would die where I moved them.
I walked a bit with the ladybugs in my pockets. I considered my power.
Thoughts snaked and slithered, broken up by men lying on grass and dogs chasing tails, but always returning.
When I got home, I checked my pockets. Only one bug remained, only one. No, actually, it was just a small bit of lint.
I didn’t command anything, after all.
Today I saw a dog running very fast, chasing air and open space, like they do.
He smelled something, something on the ground. This smell was compelling, like they are.
As his nose slowed down to investigate, his hind legs kept going, they had not been informed of the compelling smell.
His legs ran into his head and he somersaulted over himself.
Upside-down for less than a second (and still moving forward), he righted with a quick twist of his torso. In the same movement, he put his nose to the mark.
He sniffed thoroughly. And then again. And one more time, just to be sure.
No, it was nothing after all. He ran on.
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