Fairy seeds and dirty bugs

On the drive home I ran over a rabbit. It was either his life or mine, and I was taught not to swerve for an animal. All the same I won't forget the look of terror in his eyes in those final seconds before a cloud of fur was the only thing visible in my rearview mirror. I felt awful. On the same drive I was surrounded by dancing fairy seeds and dirty bugs. It amazed me that something so beautiful could be tangled with something so disgusting. I guess that's how life can be. You find something so pure and valuable, something that might need work but still amazes you every time you're near it, yet something's always lurking in the background to just niggle and nag until you find you're on the inside of a white jacket. That's what bugs me about bugs. They're always around, especially this time of the year, when the Sun is up at 5am and doesn't sleep til 10pm. And they fly into your windscreen, over your mirrors, in through your window. Some little buggers even get into your mouth, which then means you're sat choking for ages trying to spit it out. It's moments like those I wish he was there to pat me on the back in that determined way of his to make me spit out the bug. Because until I do, I go round in circles and he knows that.