Tangled

Last week I visited some forgotten place that has since been converted to a storage facility for military equipment. It was my duty to inspect the upkeep of giant panels of wood that were occasionally assembled into structures for urban training, and so I did.

Then I saw something not completely unexpected, but rather strange. There were plenty of cobwebs - those were not unexpected. But there was one web, laced with dust and clearly forsaken, with insects trapped in it - on it - whatever. They were two beetles and one moth, all very small varieties, weak, unattended and barely alive. The moth fluttered eerily. Now that was a strange sight. I thought it was rather poignant really, and pitiful, perhaps even pathetic, to be caught by a neglected contraption as if its intent was the only thing that had yet to be abandoned.

How many times does something like that happen in life? One's past is always sticky, sometimes even knotty. Then I wondered when I started sympathising with arthropods. Thankfully, I didn't see any termites.