It was not long after the death of his first wife that Michael began to believe in his own immortality.
After all, he reasoned, what better proof do we need of the possibility of eternal life than the sudden and very untimely death of a loved one.
While it may seem like a paradoxical situation to be in, he was of the opinion that if he had succeeded in not being killed in just such a completely random and utterly accidental sort of way up until this point – and he had already existed for an approximate thirty years – then the chances were that he would live forever.
One day while out walking, he suddenly became aware that he had been carefully following a caterpillar for some time. It was large, larger than the average, and a deep leaf-green. With a large pale spike protruding from its back end.
He supposed it was some kind of warning to a predator. But for all he knew it was an invitation.
Either way, it was a slow moving creature that was taking all the time in the world to get from its departure point to its destination and was taking no mind of the fact that it was being followed.
Life was long for the caterpillar, despite its days being numbered.
The caterpillar was inspiring in its determination that its short life would be long and fulfilling, under no pressure for haste and hardly noticing the fleeing days as they drifted past.
He would no longer believe that death was coming for him, and would pay no notice to the warning that life was too short for bad food, or bad television or bad weather. Because life was not short, he decided, if he paid it no attention.
Words Are Very Rascals 