I saw you all, dozens, hundreds - stretched out across the sidewalks, driven forth by a day's worth of rains. Slivers of flesh, glistening under the streetlights as you flee from the puddles.
Oh holy ones who return dead matter to life!
And now, every step home, I watch the ground, avoid even the narrow twigs that have fallen, even the stray piece of string. Every stride is measured, careful. For to tread on these delicate creatures, even by mistake, would be a grave trespass against creation. Better to err on the side of caution and avoid slender terrestrial objects altogether.