My bus was stopped at the lights and my eye immediately landed upon a pigeon doggedly going after a scrap of food on the road. The only problem was the turn right arrow was green, so a stream of traffic kept running over the desired treat. While I watched, the pigeon must have made at least twenty aborted attempts to walk out on the road, each time getting cut off by a speeding machine of death.
I know this next part is anthropomorphising on my behalf, but I swear each time a car came past the pigeon looked surprised. How could it not learn that the road was a dangerous place to be, no matter how inviting a treat looked? Just for the record I couldn’t see a damn thing on the road, so no idea what was worth risking one’s life for.
Then I was sitting with my cat and I had a heat pack on my eyes (long story, eye issues, fixing them, enough said). I sat there blindly patting her and then she moved so I had no idea where she was. She meowed because the patting stopped before she was ready. It then struck me that she had no idea what the implications were of me sitting there with my eyes covered. Even more striking was the idea that she probably had no idea that she even saw with her eyes.
This led my brain to the only place it could possibly go; if a superior being observed me, what insanely obvious thing would I be missing? It is hard enough to grasp the concept of not being able to put two and two together to make four, but what is even harder is to conceive that there would be connections and cause/effect relationships that we are missing that would probably be blatantly obvious to us if we had another 100+ IQ points.
I’m sure I’ll waste hours though trying to imagine what that would be like. That’s what writers do.