Location: Waterloo, Canada
It was raining. No, it was pouring, actually. But that couldn’t stop our party. Nothing could. From all across the city we came; flying over ponds and fields, climbing stems and crawling through thick patches of weeds.
We collected on the pods, greeting old friends and family alike, catching up on all the adventures we had gone through in the week since last we met.
Crazy Cary told us all a story about a sudden draft of wind pulled her into the pond on her way over to the Milkweeds, and as soon as she reached the shore, she got crushed under the foot of a goose coming in for a landing. She says that she’s still stuck there now; a pile of guts smudged to the bottom of a foot. Ah yes, a classic.
And Ol’ Johnny, now he told us a story to remember. He met a gray grasshopper named Gary. Now there’s a story if I ever heard one.
Many more bugs arrived in the hours after the party began, and soon it was so packed we literally had to crawl over each other to get anywhere.
I’m not quite sure why, but I found it kind of difficult to have a proper conversation with feet constantly shoving my face into the feet of other bugs, only to have them shove my face into another foot, only to… I had a very bad headache that night.
It was extraordinarily difficult to have a proper conversation with any of my buds. They went a little like this:
“So…” Head stepped on. “the o-” Eye poked by antenna. “ther da-” Mouth kicked by wandering leg.
And well… you get the point. It was a mess.
The party ended all too soon. I was the first to leave; I didn’t want to get stuck in the rush off the pods. Colliding in the air was an all too common incident, and led to an annoying pulse of pain against the exoskeleton. It definitely was not something I wanted to have to go through.
As I buzzed away, I took one last glance back, and waved my friends and family goodbye. One more week and we would do it all again.
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