Cockroach Pest Roach from Pixabay

A bugs point of view in a short tale.

There they stand looking at me in horror. Hating me. Their fear and disgust are palpable. Laying here on my back might trick them.

They’ll think I’m dead.

One of them is coming near. Gargantuan, slow and clumsy male creature creeping up to me as if I will bite and kill with deadly venom.

All I am is guts, efficient organs, and desire to eat and reproduce.

Survival is key.

These eggs I’m carrying around in my abdomen are almost ready to hatch 30 nymphs. My babies will infest and be fruitful.

The large male is getting closer.

The 2000 lenses of my eyes produce incredible details of every movement near me. My sensory organs, antennae and tiny hairs, provide valuable feedback in smells and chemical detection. I am an efficient machine.

Raising its large leg to obviously stomp on me, the huge male is pathetic. With a roll to my side, I scamper off. My six strong legs carry me forward in a blur of speed.

Big-foot stomps after me but I am too quick. Darting between the male’s legs I jolt towards the female. She surely will give me passage in empathy for my babies.

Females help one another.

Her yelp is vibrating on my antennae but what I confuse to be fear appears to be the smell of ruthless huntress about to strike.

The giant females first hit stuns me. Her flat heal crushed my legs and head. Just barely moving now. I’ll let my eggs go. Maybe my babies will make it.

“Honey, don’t worry I smashed it,” Elise said to her son.

Roaches Cockroaches from Pixabay

Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.

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