The other day about a block from my building I walked past some sort of bug, about the size of a quarter (remember those?) in circumference, and saw he'd been flipped on his hard-shell back and was frantically spinning himself in a slow circle, desperate to flip himself upright before getting eaten by the next bug that came strolling into town. After a few steps I turned around, grabbed a nearby stick & flipped him back over to what looked like his great relief as he scampered a few tiny bug steps away before stopping to look back at me, turning around for a nice moment like Mean Joe Greene.
Okay I don't know if the bug guy that but he sure seemed happy; anyways, walking just outside my building this morning I walked by what looked like the same kind of bug. I stopped and stared, hoping for some sort of recognition, and still felt compelled to speak out loud to this thing like a fucking lunatic even though no sign of recognition came.
I have no idea if it was the same bug, or even the same species, but I've decided it was and you're goddam right I'm gonna be looking for that guy from now on.
Well, or however long bugs usually live.
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