The Worm, Me, and The Omniscience

I saw a long worm on our porch crawling along the wet concrete.  He didn’t know the concrete was deadly to him, and when the sun dried the concrete, the concrete would leach the moisture out of him, leading to his demise.  My lover and I are worm savers, regularly saving them from our porch by tossing them back in the yard.  I got up, went outside, picked him up, and tossed him into the yard.  If he had half a brain, he would have thought some hand of a monster had grabbed him and tried to kill him by throwing half a country mile.  He didn’t.  Have half a brain, that is.  I had actually saved his life.  If I had half a brain, I would have tried to explain to him what I was doing.  But I don’t either.  Have half a brain that it.  I have a whole brain and knew there was no reason to explain to someone without half a brain that I was saving his life.  He couldn’t understand it anyway.  I came back in and continued my quiet time with The Omniscience, the maker of the worm, and me, me saved, and the worm as well.