I Hate Moths

Moths are homely butterflies. I’m sure some weirdos like moths, but I don’t. It’s not just because they are ugly. If I hated all things ugly, I’d have disowned half my family and all my wife’s family. 

My moth hatred is like Spiderman. It has an origin story. My “death of Uncle Ben” took the form of my older brother’s lying soul. 

We were spending the summer in Daytona Beach with my grandparents. Moths were an issue at night. These flying monsters swarmed around the porch light.

My brother noticed the look of concern in my eight year old eyes. He saw an opportunity. 

“Moths eat skulls.” 

I just learned the word skull. My eyes widened. I took a step back. 

I’ve grown since then both physically and emotionally. 

I still hate moths. They fly their stupid bodies into you and turn to dust when they die. I’m not going to give them a chance to eat my skull.

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