There was a tiny fly right by the drain, and I was about to wash my hands. Turning on the water would have sent it right down the drain. A quick end, or an eventual struggled drowning, hard to know. But that would be that, there was no getting out. Somehow, for a moment, I slipped into contemplation. I could just turn on the water, I could rescue it, I could use a different sink. Had I not even seen the fly, the water would already been on, its invisible fate secured. But in that moment of maybe, the fly launched and flew away. Since it didn't know what I was about to do, and what that would do it, it had absolutely no idea how lucky it was. And then I wondered. How often am I in that same position? No idea how lucky I am. Often, probably always.