The Insect

Rescued, gingerly rinsed with water he lies on Kleenex a small Rorschach blob. I take him to the window: an August sun providing fans for his revival. Fingernail against his innards, I lift him into some kind of action. He whirrs for a second, then stops. Has he lost an antenna? A foot perhaps? I search in vain, Ask how many feet he should have in the first place. The art-deco wings intricate but fragile seemed secure. So nudge him into flight, place him on the window, where he suddenly gummed up on his own! Is he ready? I will believe it so: later, coming back, he was gone. Small visito r, send my greetings to the sky. . .

About these ads
Sponsored Content by LockerDome

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...

Save for later

Save
Cancel

Saved ( of items)

This item has been saved to read later from any device.
Access saved items through your user name at the top of the page.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You reached the limit of 20 saved items.
Please visit following link to manage you saved items.

View Saved Items

OK

Failed to save

You have already saved this item.

View Saved Items

OK