Emily Tallis
Even being lied to constantly, though hardly like love, was sustained attention; he must care about her to fabricate so elaborately and over such a long stretch of time. His deceit was a form of tribute to the importance of their marriage.
Now the faintest stirring of a breeze rustled the display of sedge that stood before the fireplace. Two or three stout-bodied moths circled the lamp that stood upon the harpischord. When would anyone ever play it again? That night creatures were drawn to lights where they could be most easily eaten by other creatures was one of the mysteries that gave her modest pleasure.
She preferred not to have it explained away. At a formal dinner once, a professor of some science or other, wanting to make small talk had pointed out a few insects gyrating over a candelabra. He had told her that it was the visual impression of an even deeper darkness beyond the light that drew them in.
Even though they might be eaten, they had to obey the instict that made them seek out the darkest place, on the far side of the light - and in this case it was an illusion. It sounded to her like sophistry, or an explanation for its own sake. How could anyone presume to know the world through the eyes of an insect?
Not everything had a case, and pretending otherwise was an interference in the workings of the world that was futile, and could even lead to grief.
Some things were simply so.
PEACE OUT


