In the middle of the night, I get up for a drink and as I turn on the tap, I see a thing of beauty in my kitchen sink struggling for its tiny life against torrentially streaming water.
To save its life I turn the water off and attempt to pick up the beautiful but horrendous
bug. It’s colored gray with spots of black with wings that flap but don’t allow flight. Judging by its body size, it’s probably a distant cousin to a cockroach.
A paper towel allows me to softly grip Mother Nature’s ambassador, sent as a reminder that what’s ugly to me can be beautiful when objectively seen.
I attempt to gently pick up this delicate creature, but it falls down the drain.
Distraught that I may have killed this poor bug, I try to pull it from the hole but I’m afraid I’ll rip
and tear its delicate parts, so I leave it alone to save itself or die, and I stay awake that night worrying that I may have killed that little bug.