Hunger. I awake, gasping for breath. Where am I? The
mountain, I’m beneath the soft overhang of the mountain—I must have been out
all day. I’m starving, when did I last eat? An hour ago? A day ago? A week ago?
I’ve got to get something to eat before I collapse again from exhaustion and
lack of food. It’s dark again; my senses perk up—food. I can barely see a thing
in this blackness around me. I crawl away from my resting place, sending out
feelers fumbling around in the pitch black, searching for nourishment—all the
while that smell of some unidentified delectable alighting in my nose, urging
me on. I can’t leave my hiding place and venture into The Open. Many a roach
has been snatched away unawares never to be seen again for going out into The
Open.
The Enemy. It’s
always there, ready to pounce—controlling the elements, turning light to dark
and dark to light at will. How many has it taken? It must be thousands or more
at least. Wasn’t it just the other day that I heard about the roach that was
caught trying to climb into the tower of refuse? My own father disappeared
while he sought to sate himself drinking from the fountain of sporadic waters,
not only was the water boiling hot on that particular day but it gave away his
position to his killer. The thought of
the faceless Enemy with its thundering approach, signaling doom to all who hear
it, sends a shiver down my carapace. Enemy or no, I’ve got to eat—I need to
find that food and quickly.
Staying in the
relative safety of the protective overhang, my antennae probing the ground in
front of me, I search for my illusive meal. Crawling around the metal boulders
of various shapes and sizes that litter my world their cold touch reminding me
of the sad state I find myself in this night. I pick my way through the massive
cavern that has been keeping me safe and out of sight, inching, always inching
closer to life, food, the reason I exist.
The food! I
sense it. There, ahead of me. I rush toward it until I reach the outermost
limit of the overhang that has been keeping me out of the ever-present gaze of
The Enemy. I see it now in the dim light of the dark night; it looks like a
piece of the orange, fish-shaped substance. Possibly one of the most plentiful
finds to be found simply lying in the Open like this. Unless I was willing to
risk life and limb scaling the plastic walls to the bounty of the silver bag,
you take what you can get out here. Beggars can’t be choosers after all.
By now the
smell of the orange delicacy in front of me is unbearable, my stomach groans
within me—speaking to me of its barren emptiness and pain. I can’t risk it! But
I must, I’ll either die here for want of food or risk a suicide mission,
setting off into the perilous no-man’s land known as The Open to get it—not the
best scenario for a bug. I can imagine the savory saltiness of that orange
treat, the crunch of it in my mandibles intoxicating me…I lull off into
fantasies of chewing the crunchy, salted substance before me. If I don’t eat it
someone else will. I’m going—there’s nothing to lose.
I hesitantly
emerge from the towering citadel of safety out into that vast dangerous expanse
of unknown. Using extreme caution I creep toward my edible goal—all the time
feeling around, listening for danger. Curse this darkness! I can hardly see
anything. I’m close now and getting closer—my trusted antennae quickly groping
the hard exterior shell of my prize. I can’t wait any longer; I take a bite and
chew with ecstasy—savoring every mouthwatering crumb between my jaws. I lose
myself in the abundant feast before me.
What is that
sound? Like the concussive and repetitive thud of distant thunder I detect the
approach of The Enemy. One more bite, just one more—I can risk it for it may be
my last. Before the salted deliciousness is upon my teeth I see it.
The Light! I
can’t see—my eyes are burning! I’m blinded for a moment as The Enemy utilizes
its control over the sky and removes the shroud of darkness hugging the room.
I’ve got to get back to the cave. I stumble right and then left—I’m
disoriented, I don’t recognize surroundings in the sudden profusion of light.
The deep rumbling grows louder and faster and draws closer.
In an instant,
before I can run, I am hoisted into the air with no degree of concern for my
well-being or comfort. I’m enclosed in some kind of soft blanket of sorts, but unable
to move. A moment later, a tremendous pressure is applied to my frame and
closes in around me from all sides—I’m being crushed! My limbs and feelers are
smashed without mercy and my lower body nearly severed from my upper half. The
pain is exquisite—kill me now please! How am I not dead yet? My body has now
become a tangled mess of limbs, innards and shards of exoskeleton. ‘I will not
survive this’ I think to myself and then I begin to fall.
Water! I’m
sinking, I’m paralyzed to try and swim to safety, I can’t breathe—I’m drowning!
I close my eyes as my lungs fill with cold water—letting the pain take me
withersoever it will. Before I collapse from my broken body and liquid-filled
lungs I hear the sound of a great rushing water and feel that I’m being pulled
down, down into a place from I which I know I won’t return. Flushed out from
existence.
