And the mess covers the floor. Hundreds upon hundreds, no, thousands upon thousands, no, it must be more than ten thousand, of the assorted green, blue, and red pests surround and suffocate my feet on their precious hardwood path. The overturned cardboard box, once home to these squiggles, proclaimed land of the corrugate and home of annoyance, smugly shifts its nonexistent eyes at my despair. I crouch to collect my escaped prisoners, but as I approach, their wide-eyed naiveté bursts forth from their mouths of creases. They know not what they do to kill me. They know not how their collective appearance, under guise of protection, serves to block my throat with light-winded, glum flittering.
I squish one. I squish one quickly. I do it out of spite and out of maliciousness. I do it simply to see the reaction of the others, and it is swift yet daft. The ones close by enjoy the cool breeze of my moving foot and ride its waves to a location better removed from death. The ones of good vantage are stupefied by horror. The ones far away have not the range of interpretation to care for their fallen comrade.
The crumbling entrails of innards slowly flake from my foot as I lift it. I recognize my folly; I have enlarged my mess and irritated my situation. I have further extricated myself from happiness, but they do not revel in my self-pitying overreaction. The question, however, remains: in this are they noble or simply ignorant? Or are such terms synonymous when in reference to such creatures.
Suddenly, a breeze blows. Each manifestation, ignorant and thus innocent of its evil, lifts from the hardwood floor. A veritable whoop of excitement spews from their “S” for from where else could it come? A new journey, a new experience awaits them, and they are overjoyed by the possibilities.
But alas, I simply slip, crashing thunderously to the ground, in an impossible attempt to give pursuit and entrap them forever in their motherland, their stiff-smelling box of pulped prison.
I squish one. I squish one quickly. I do it out of spite and out of maliciousness. I do it simply to see the reaction of the others, and it is swift yet daft. The ones close by enjoy the cool breeze of my moving foot and ride its waves to a location better removed from death. The ones of good vantage are stupefied by horror. The ones far away have not the range of interpretation to care for their fallen comrade.
The crumbling entrails of innards slowly flake from my foot as I lift it. I recognize my folly; I have enlarged my mess and irritated my situation. I have further extricated myself from happiness, but they do not revel in my self-pitying overreaction. The question, however, remains: in this are they noble or simply ignorant? Or are such terms synonymous when in reference to such creatures.
Suddenly, a breeze blows. Each manifestation, ignorant and thus innocent of its evil, lifts from the hardwood floor. A veritable whoop of excitement spews from their “S” for from where else could it come? A new journey, a new experience awaits them, and they are overjoyed by the possibilities.
But alas, I simply slip, crashing thunderously to the ground, in an impossible attempt to give pursuit and entrap them forever in their motherland, their stiff-smelling box of pulped prison.