MY P.O.V. - HEAVEN

Light permeates my being, leading me upward to bask in its sweet warmth. An intoxicating aroma sweeps over me and I leap with utter abandon to drift into its bosom of splendor, tumbling softly through towering pillars that pilot me gently to a protective haven where I dip into the vastness and sip nectar from the gods. It consumes me, revitalizes me, and completes me.

A TICK’S P.O.V. - LIFE

…this eyeless animal finds the way to her watchpoint [at the top of a tall blade of grass] with the help of only its skin’s general sensitivity to light. The approach of her prey becomes apparent to this blind and deaf bandit only through her sense of smell. The odor of butyric acid, which emanates from the sebaceous follicles of all mammals, works on the tick as a signal that causes her to abandon her post (on top of the blade of grass/bush) and fall blindly downward toward her prey. If she is fortunate enough to fall on something warm (which she perceives by means of an organ sensible to a precise temperature) then she has attained her prey, the warm-blooded animal, and thereafter needs only the help of her sense of touch to find the least hairy spot possible and embed herself up to her head in the cutaneous tissue of her prey. She can now slowly suck up a stream of warm blood.

I wanna be a tick.