harvest festival

this diary is now a scratch pad so I can potentially plagiarize myself years down the roadI’d just informed my best friend that I will be dressing up for Halloween, and I will be costumed as a fly. She looked apprehensive. “I know you have some sort of sympathy for them,” she began, horrified. Maybe that’s true. Maybe I not-so-secretly love a pest. But she was referring to September, when the whole family had been chasing after a little fly in the kitchen. “Oh,” I’d said unhappily, walking in on the scene. Then I’d explained that, when I’d been whipping up curry the night before, “he managed to stay alive so long, I guess I started to think of him as my little pal.” By “managed to stay alive,” I meant I’d threatened the fly verbally, and he’d dutifully stayed out of my way after that, leaving all the food alone, keeping entirely to the other side of the room. Well, I sounded insane. Finally I relented, saying the family could do what they liked, but “please just don’t tell me about…