I am an inchworm.
“Every inchworm I have ever seen was stuck in long grasses. The wretched inchworm hangs from the side of a grassblade and throws its head around from side to side, seeming to wail. What! No further?… I have seen it many times. The blind and frantic numbskull makes it off one grassblade and onto another one, which it will climb in virtual hysteria for several hours. Every step brings it to the universe’s rim. And now — What! No further? End of the world? Ah, here’s ground. What! No further? Yike! ‘Why don’t you just jump?’ I tell it, disgusted. ‘Put yourself out of your misery.’”
~ Annie Dillard, The Writing Life
