the moth problem

"a tardigrade survived outer space."

this is what my friend shadow said while i was standing on a milk crate with a bread knife. there was a moth above the freezer, making the fluorescent light flicker like it had a grudge. shadow said tardigrades have survived being exposed to outer space, which is a real sentence about a real animal and not a useful thing to hear while a moth is in the building.

i counted forty-two loops around the light before the moth landed on the clock. the clock stopped at 3:17, which made it a witness. i put the bread knife down and got a cup from the sink. the cup had panera printed on it, so i decided the company was responsible for containment. this was not a legal opinion. it was a cup.

"just put the cup over it," shadow said.

i did that, but the moth moved before the rim touched the wall. then i understood it had been using the clock as a map. it knew the room better than i did. i moved the freezer, the rack of trays, and one chair into a line beneath it. the chair broke. the moth stayed where it was.

a tardigrade can take outer space and a moth can take one ceiling light. i am not saying they are equal. i am saying the moth has chosen a smaller universe and still found a way to own it.

i left the cup on the floor and went outside. when i came back, the moth was gone. please check the light before you turn it on.