YOU ARE *NOT* GOD

January in Chicago and the temperature is in the 60's and it's been raining like crazy. It's so f---ed up that last night coming home from yoga I saw an earthworm crossing the sidewalk, trying to save itself from the saturated ground. An earthworm in January. What did it take to rouse it, when earlier that morning there were still six inches of snow on the ground? Knowing it was supposed to snow later, I decided to play Vishnu* and save the thing. I scraped it off the ground and held it in my poo-hand. It writhed like crazy as I went up the stairs and noticed that the lights on the top two floors are STILL out. It writhed some more in the pitch black as I tried to find-feel the key-holes in my door. Writhe, writhe, search search. Finally I dropped my bag and Pockets sandwich and concentrated and eventually got the door open. More writhing. Once inside I went to dump my new friend in the plant-pot (somehow this was going to save its life) and saw that while the writhing sensation remained, the worm itself had vanished. Much searching inside and out with a flashlight, but to no avail. Did it ever exist? Today it's still warm and there's no rain and the thing would have been better off outside, instead of drying up and dying on the hallway rug somewhere because someone decided they knew better than Nature. Lesson learned, Madam.



*the Preserver