I’m Finn. A clothes moth, like any other. Just hanging out in my closet after nibbling last seasons wool scarf. The only difference with me is, I want out.
I need to explore this world, have some crazy tree sex with an oak moth or fight a giant Mexican moth and lose some dust. Life is passing me by so quickly.
It seemed like just yesterday I was a larvae. There must be other, more exciting closets out there. Ones with slotted doors to let in light and all are free to come and go. A heaven of silks and furs, unprotected by the white balls of death.
I’d leave right now, but the door has been sealed shut for days. There are rumors of a southern exit, but it’s dangerous being that close to the floor. There are feet on the floor that crush and smash and steal your dust so that you never fly again.
I was raised on stories of Uncle Biff, who was stripped of his dust by a small child only to escape and live in agony, unable to fly the rest of his days. A horror story on the dangers of roaming too far from your garment.
I’m not saying that I’m not afraid. I am terrifired to be honest, but I won’t let it stop me. My time will come…
Picture is from http://www.orkin.com