Tara Fox Hall

It was near ten in the morning on a Friday. I was at work, sweating freely as I labored in the dusty confines of the windowless inventory room, the upper level of the machine shop that I’d humorously dubbed the Insect Graveyard. But my mind was not on the metal parts I was counting and recording, it was on the doubt that plagued my mind.
I was a casualty of the weighty times we now live in, doubts about my life path plaguing my thoughts. Was this really what I was supposed to be doing with my life? Was this really meaningful work? How much did it matter to the world that I was here, counting these parts on this fine autumn morning? Was this really the path God wanted me on?
“I need a sign, God,” I muttered to myself tiredly. “I need to believe I make a difference.”
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a hummingbird moth flew up to me. He zoomed around swiftly, back and forth, his movements frantic. He was so fast I thought it was pointless even to try grabbing for him.
My eyes lighted on the many remains of insects that had died up here, victims of the fluorescent illumination they’d been drawn to. I’d only been able to rescue one other creature from that dim fate: a slow-moving preying mantis that I’d put my hat over, then carried outside. This lightning-fast moth wouldn’t be so easy. Still, I had to try.
I attempted to corner the moth, but he remained just out of reach, evading my swipes with my hat. I had nothing else with me except my heavy overshirt. If I threw that over him, he would almost certainly be injured when he crashed to the floor. Time was fast running out. Already he’d come close to a fatal singe several times.
I watched him for a few moments, letting him fly closer as I got my hat ready again in one hand. As he darted near, I reached out with spread fingers suddenly, batting him down into the hat. Quickly I pressed it to my chest, trapping his madly fluttering body.
Relieved, I strode fast down the stairs, then outside. Lifting the hat from my chest, the moth erupted, flying out and away towards the neighboring field. I watched him grow smaller and disappear. Then I walked back inside with a determined step, my purpose completely renewed, my heart lifted.
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Published on July 06, 2012 06:53 • 238 views • Tags: doubt-in-the-insect-graveyard, tara-fox-hall

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