Earlier this week a bug flew into my ear, and it died there.
Before it died, it was alive, inside of my ear.
Something was inside of my head that was not me.
It moved inside of my head, and I felt it and I heard it all at once.
Have you ever seen a fly trapped between two panes of glass?
It buzzes and whines and flings itself frantically about without ceasing.
It will do the same thing in the human ear.
It will fling itself in every direction but outside.
I went mad, and I stayed mad, and I am mad now.
I would have clawed out my own ear, had it not died in there.
Once it died — once we killed it with the judicious application of mineral oil —
I no longer cared about anything.
“I can wait,” I said. “I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow. I still want to go to the beach.”
Once you’ve had a live bug in your ear, a dead one cannot scare you.
A dead bug does not move.
Anything can be endured.
Please share your own stories with bugs and bodily integrity below in the comments. We have been through the fire together, my sisters and brothers.
Nothing can hurt us now.
Mallory is an Editor of The Toast.