Wednesday, March 08, 2006The Moth and the FlameA fable that is not for the faint-heartedOne fine evening (for moths are nocturnal creatures) the moth was flitting happily along when suddenly it heard, "Hey, moth!" Puzzled, it looked around for the source of the call, which turned out to be very easily found -- a flame, sitting pretty in mid-air (don't ask why, this is a fable) some distance below it. "Good day to you," said the moth (for they're real polite creatures, especially to strangers), "And what are you doing in mid-air?" (It asked. so don't you) "You're a fine, handsome moth," and the moth blushed, for it's never been praised before (moths have short lives, and they don't waste it on praise), "And I'll like to make friends! Would you like to make friends with me?" The flame took a step (reminder: this is supposed to be a fable) towards the moth. The moth was puzzled (moths have short lives, and no time for friends). What was this flame trying to do? It was attracted by the bright, dancing, radiant flame. After, it's never seen the sun (doesn't know what the sun is) before, and it's never seen such a bright, colourful creature, a creature so full of energy, before in its entire short life. Without knowing it, it floated a little closer to the flame. However, moths are clever creatures, having evolved over the generations (lots of lots of them, on account of them having such short lives). Besides, it heard from Momma that Grandpa went after a flame and never returned (after it and Gramma had Momma, thankfully). So it remained wary. "What's a friend?" it asked innocently. "Well, why don't you let me show you?" With that the flame took another step towards the moth. The moth was feeling 'warm and fuzzy', in its own words. Not an unpleasant feeling, a feeling that it's never felt like this before, and it decided that it actually liked this feeling. So it flits a little closer to the flame, again unconscious of its own actions. Its tiny brain is quite unable to cope with the ramifications of this event, but it is still sufficently evolved to still regard the flame with caution. "My momma told me, uh, never to go near flames. (Did my momma know what it's talking about, now? I don't see the harm, honestly.)" "And why would that be? I'm just a simple, unarmed flame. What could I do to you?" Another step towards the moth. If the moth could sweat, it would be sweating rivers by now (and die of dehydration, first). The moth was still trying to understand the situation (or rather, we're still hoping for it to do so). Actually, it thinks things are pretty much after control. 'After all,' it tells itself happily, 'at the first sign of trouble I'll just flit away on my powerful wings. The flame will never be able to catch up, ha!' Now, since the flame seems friendly.. The moth flies to the flame. And with a sudden glare and a soft whoosh the moth is no more. The flame sighs. Just like the ones before. They all come close, then suddenly, they disappear. Into thin air. Without even saying goodbye, how rude. It is so lonely being a flame, it could never find any lasting friends. Even other flames, they don't last as long as it does (because they don't try to make friends with moths). So it continues on its lonely search for a friend. The End. Moral of the story: Moths have short lives.
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