A Wounded Dragonfly (true story)

Once, when we lived in Florida, my ex wife and our small child called me out to the deck of the house where we lived. There was a wounded dragonfly, flying very loudly round and round in wide panicky circles because one of its wings wasn't working properly.

I caught it and held it and spoke to it, in what I hoped was a reassuring voice, until it had calmed down, and once it did, it didn't try to fly again. It clung to my clothes or to my body, wherever I put it, and just stayed there. Later, once it had got used to us, also to my ex and our child.

It was really large, maybe 4 or 5 inches long, a bright neon green with gigantic iridescent eyes and wings. There was a wound on its side, just where the wings met the body.

When we went to sleep we left it in a large jar with some vegetation and some water. We may have also put some dead flies or mosquitoes in there in case it got hungry, I don't remember.

In the morning, it was there, still alive, ready to be picked up and admired, and to ride around on our bodies.

Some time later in the day, when I paused to take a look at it, I noticed that it seemed to be looking back at me rather intently. It was perched on one of my fingers. I raised my finger to my face so that I could meet its gaze, and after a long moment it grabbed my nose with its front legs. It pulled itself, and my hand, right up to my face with its legs, less than half a centimeter, but with a strength I wasn't expecting. I remember the sensation of it - its feet were sharp and dug into my skin, stinging just slightly. It brought its face right up to my face, and we stayed like that for a moment. Then it let go.

And when I moved my hand away from my face, it took off and flew!

©2018 Bennett Italia