“There is something to be said for letting something go – I must say,” said the moth.

“I mean, you have it, but you don’t really have it until it wants to be had – you see? It’s only yours because you have it, as soon as you don’t have it, it’s not yours.”

“Oh yes, yes,” the pill bug acknowledged with a nod.

“Right, so, if you let it go…” the moth halted his explanation – “you don’t get it, do you?” he asked of the pillbug.

“Oh, yes, yes, do please, do go on.”

“How can I go on, if you’re not understanding a mite word I’m saying. You’re nodding alright, but your eyes are completely vacuous.”

The pill bug attempted, in vain, to observe his own eyes and managed to cause such a strain in his head that he nearly passed out. “Ouch!” he said.

“Don’t act hurt, it’s your own fault you’re not paying any attention.”

“Oh, please go on, I dearly do want to hear what you’ve to say.”

“Hmm,” the moth said thoughtfully – the pill bug certainly was genuinely imploring.

“Very well – if you promise to devote your every thought to my word.”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course.”

“Now where was I?”

“I, I don’t know.”

“We have a bit of a problem then, don’t we?”

“What will we do?”

“We’ll do what one should always do when one loses something – retrace our steps – our progress, if you will.”

“Oh, how fun.”

“Our topic, of course,” the moth trilled his voice most self importantly, “was that of letting something go that you should better own it, should it return, and, I have already recalled where we have left our conversation.”

“Oh, you have?”

“Yes, I do so because I am brilliant and you are right in begging the continuation of my lecture because of that very fact.”

The pill bug smiled importantly.

“I was in the process of making a wonderful point. I believe you had, however falsely, agreed with my statement that as soon as you don’t have something, it is no longer yours.”

“Oh, yes,” the pill bug exclaimed.

“That’s what you said alright. Wait a moment – you’re doing it all over again.”

“What?” the pill bug asked innocently.

“You’re repeating senseless affirmations without comprehending a single word!”

“Oh, please, don’t be angry.”

“Oh, I’m not being angry, it’s just not possible to speak entirely to oneself,” he said to himself. “One needs the affirmation of a comprehending audience; it is a check against the theories one expounds.”

“But if you don’t have something, it’s no longer yours,” the pill bug suggested hesitantly.

“Ah?” the moth perked up his attention. “Right – so, if you let it go, and it comes back to you, well, then – then you have something. Right, right.” He smiled to himself as if he had succeeded in some great accomplishment.

“Perhaps, this conversation, this idea I have conquered, has been lost and reclaimed,” he suggested.

The pill bug nodded eagerly – afraid to risk ruin with words.

“Perhaps, now it is truly mine,” the moth was mildly invigorated.

“You see,” he said, looking over the pill bug, who turned to see what there was to see, “We have just experienced exactly that what I was describing, and therein proved my very speech with our concurrent physical actions. That is a very peculiar thing indeed, requisite of a moment’s quiet contemplation.”

The pill bug was mildly confused, the moth was deeply confused. The pill bug stared at the moth and the moth stared at the dirt. Gradually, the pill bug also began to stare at the dirt, but seeing nothing of interest he resumed his observation of the moth.

“It is mine,” the moth mused. “I have never quite felt to be in possession of a concept, but now I am. I own the concept of owning, through releasing to free will that which may never return. Assuming, of course, that the concept returned through free will, which I think we can both agree it did certainly do.” The moth looked up for the reassurance of the pill bug’s officious nodding, but the pill bug had wandered off.