We’re in Mexico. Sitting by the pool, Bao gave me a kiss.
You shouldn’t let him do that, said the woman next to me. Dogs have germs.
So do people, I replied. In fact, we’ve got more bacteria and germs in our bodies than we do cells. She gave me a funny look, and went back to her fashion magazine.
I sat there, thinking about my bacteria and germs. To them, I’m an environment – a whole world. Planet Gail, home to untold thousands of generations of bacteria and germs. They probably think I’ll last forever, but I won’t. And when I do finally fall off my perch, it will be – from the point of view of my bacteria and germs, assuming they have a point of view – an ecological catastrophe, global warming writ large. Total annihilation. The end of their world.
Is that why some of them are trying to keep me healthy? Because they know what’s coming? And what about the ones that are trying to make me sick? Are they suicidal? Or just selfish, like their energy-guzzling human counterparts?
There’s something about the sound of the waves and the smell of the sea that sends my imagination off on peculiar tangents. I think I’ll give Bao another kiss.