A Buggy Afternoon

I’m sitting in my usual quite place in the woods, listening to the soft spring breeze gently encouraging the newly arrived leaves to wave, as if approving of my presence, and I’m thinking of nothing at all.

Looking down, I caught a glimpse of a green bug; one that I have never seen before. It was unique, interesting, and well ugly. Suddenly, the song by Burl Ives, ‘The Ugly Bug Ball’ started floating through my mind.

I wondered what a bug would do at a ball. Will they need to wrap some of their legs around another to slow dance? What would they dance too? What about crickets? Are there chaperons ensuring leg limits around a bug body?

I decided to find out so I bent down to speak to him.

“Where are you off to?” I asked

I heard a barely audible gasp.

“Why, what’s it to you lass?” he said.

Somehow, it didn’t surprise me that he could speak. I was however, surprised at hearing a hint of an Irish brogue.

“Just curious as to what bugs do,” I said.

“Well then, come with me,” he said.

“I don’t think I will fit under a rock,” I said.

“Ay, stereotyped again!” “You humans think just because we are different from you, we’re somehow bad. For your information lass, we are heading to the clearing over there lass. We will converge there for the day,” he said.

I could swear he stomped his four feet for emphasis.

“Do they all look like you,” I asked.

Something that resembled a tongue was stretching out in my general direction. This critter seemed to have something of a chip on his, whatever resembled a shoulder.

“So, you think we all look alike do ya now,” he said.

“Sorry, no offense meant,” I said feeling duly chastised.

“Will ya come then,” he asked.

Not to hurt his feelings further, I thought I might see what all of this was about.

“Yes, I will be honored,” I said.

“Good, my name is Shamus by the by,” he said.

That figures I said to myself.

 I followed behind him as he crawled, being very careful not to step on this strange creature. I felt like Alice in Bug Land and decided immediately not to imbibe anything he might offer.

Once there, I found that they all did look alike, different colors, but alike in shape and size.

As if reading my mind, Shamus said, “We don’t go by appearances, we go by smell,” he said. “That’s the difference between humans and us. Humans look at the surface only and use sprays and such to cover ya natural odor, masking that which nature bestowed on ye.”

“I guess it’s a cultural thing. Again, I meant no offense. It didn’t occur to me that I could offend you,” I said.

“Ya didn’t offend lass; ya annoyed ‘tis all.”

 Suddenly, a thousand beady eyes were watching me as they gathered in a circle around me, emitting squeaky sounds, and I wondered why they didn’t speak.

“Sit ya arse down then,” he said.

“What is going on,” I asked, suddenly alarmed.

I didn’t receive an answer. They started to dance their way over to me. Several were at my feet and starting to bite.

They were chanting something I could barely hear. It sounded like…

Thrice around this human we go

‘Tis our turn now, to human we grow

Human to bug, we need your blood, and bug to human

We need your albumin

Suddenly, I was back where I started from, startled to find myself still alive. After a few seconds, I realized I must have dozed off. Then I saw a bug that looked a lot like Shamus slowly crawling on my arm. It was green.

I squashed him with my hand and went home vowing to find another place to de-stress.