The Visitor

Pin It I was sitting in my kitchen this morning reading up on blogs and such when I heard an odd out-of-place buzzing sound. Startled, I looked quickly around the room.

Out of nowhere swooped a fly.

I don’t know why.

This particular insect hadn’t been here before, and I started to wonder how it came to be in my home on a morning when the snow is falling in troves. I always leave for work in the early morning when it’s nearly dark out and freezing, and I return home again when it’s nearly dark and freezinger. In fact, I couldn’t recall having seen any flies outside for weeks, and yet here was this little guy coming from nowhere.

And why hadn’t I seen him before now?

Was this an early Christmas miracle? I thought. A reminder of something? Perhaps that summer—though seemingly gone—was still there, beneath the piled-up snow? An omen of sorts?

I began to wonder about this little bug as it landed on the ceiling and regarded me with its many-faceted eyes. For a time, I just sat and stared back, my mind spinning with the possibilities of how this little critter had come to join me for breakfast.

Then I sucked it up with the vacuum cleaner.

Nothing

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What if I had nothing to say?

Nothing of great significance?

Would you still come?

What if I rambled on senselessly for paragraph after paragraph?

Or had single words on a line?

Would you still want to read what I’ve written?

What if I was purely selfish?

Writing about only the things important to me?

Would you find yourself disappointed?

What if you were reading this right now?

Wondering, “Does he suspect that I lurk anonymously?”

Would you let me know you came by?

I do not require an answer.

I just wonder…