The parasite was unfamiliar with anything

but the burble and hum of the gastric juices,

the stomach gently kneeding him left and right,

the chafing of the acid.

Would it do to leave such a place, small though it were?

It stretched to his convenience.

How would it feel not to be entirely enclosed, touched

and pressed from every angle, every side?

Even the thought of it gave him a chill.

Still, how would it be to live a life without change,

day in, day out?

Milk and bread, salt and butter.

He slid into the blood vessel and found, much to his surprise,

that he knew how to swim.

As if he had been born to swim in such a fashion.