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Fiction

Grasshopper Tale

Dawn Napier | 0 comments | 12/07/14
Medium

As fairy tales go, it isn't much. Nobody will make an epic trilogy out of it. Michael Bay will never pick up the option. My story will never have been brought to you by Generation X Toilet Paper—For When Your Life Is In The Crapper. But it's my story, and I'm proud of it. If you want to go all the way back to the beginning, I'd have to start with my childhood and all the time I spent catching frogs and watching bugs in the lake near my house. If I were the sensitive, tea-drinking sort I could wax poetic for a couple of pages about my hippie parents and how they instilled a respect for nature into the essence of my soul. Enture chapters could be dedicated to the tears I shed over missing pets and roadkill and the nest of rabbits our cocker spaniel found and shredded. But this fairy tale isn't about any of that. It's about the day I was nice to a grasshopper. I was on my way to work. I'd just been told that Friday would be my last day in the warehouse, and I was thinking gloomy thoughts. This was actually an improvement. The day before, when I'd first gotten the news, my thoughts had been frantic and terrified, the sort of trapped-rat thoughts that bite and tear at you until you scream or put your fist through something just to make it stop. But that had passed, and now I was just tired and depressed. We'd have to go on welfare. State insurance. The kids wouldn't get much for their birthdays this year. Life was going to suck. It was muggy and hot, and I had the windows rolled down to save air conditioning. I slowed to a crawl as I approached a construction site, and I rested my arm on the door. Something tickled it. I jerked my arm inside the car, thinking spider. But instead I saw an enormous emerald-hued grasshopper about three inches long. It clung to the door frame where my elbow had been, and its antennae twitched. I was on a four-lane road with a wide median. If I knocked him out of the car now, he'd get squished for sure. I kept my left arm tucked in the car as I inched past the construction area. "Better hold on tight, little G," I told the…

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My new post on For Zombies.net

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