Five Insect Stories
Story Number One
Once upon a time, an expat teacher lived in a condo on a swanky condo street. There weren’t many access points to public transport because everyone else drove in expensive cars. So the expat teacher had to climb 67 concrete stairs from the bus stop to reach the swanky condo street. The last of the 67 concrete stairs rose out of a fetid puddle of stagnant jungle water that never seemed to dry up. Every day the expat teacher saw something interesting at the fetid puddle of stagnant jungle water at the base of the last of the 67 concrete steps leading to the swanky condo street. In the fetid puddle she had seen toads, mice, dragonflies, giant land snails, mosquito larvae of a frightening size, wriggling worms, tadpoles, and once, a baby snake.
One sunny weekend day, the expat teacher noticed an iridescent turquoise flash. It was a Common Bluebottle butterfly. She fumbled for her camera and knelt at the edge of the fetid puddle which had once again yielded up its bounty to the delight of the expat teacher.
THE END
Story Number Two
Once upon a time in a condo on a swanky condo street lived a distinctly unswanky expat teacher and her two expat teacher roommates. One night when all three were about to settle in for a short night’s rest before waking up in the godless hours before dawn, the expat teacher was roused by someone shouting her name.
“Graaaaaaaaaaaace?!?! There’s a huge moth in my room!”
The expat teacher was conveniently just passing by her roommate’s bedroom had narrowly missed being brained by the door as her roommate rocketed out of her room. Her roommate stood in a cold sweat, suddenly still and silent, and mutely pointed at her curtains. The expat teacher locked eyes with the giant brown moth sitting on the curtains. She strode into the room, emanating a mysterious magnetic power. The moth took flight; the roommate whimpered from the hallway as it flew straight at the expat teacher and landed like a brooch on her chest and trembled there.
The expat teacher walked with silent assurance out of her roommate’s bedroom, past the stunned roommate in the hall, and into her own bedroom … and then darted for her camera. The moth-spell broken, the winged monster flew wildly at the ceiling light, stunning itself and falling behind the door where the expat teacher immediately began a photoshoot. The roommate poked her head into the bedroom: “Should I … uh … leave you two alone?”
THE END
Story Number Three
Once upon a time, on a swanky condo street, an expat teacher was just returning to her bedroom from the front door where she had been releasing an enormous moth back into the balmy tropical night. Just as she was passing her roommate’s room, she was startled by a piercing shriek from within, “GRAAAAAAACE! There’s another bug in my room!”
The expat teacher burst into the room, brandishing her camera still warm from the moth’s photoshoot. The roommate was standing in a corner pointing at the curtain. A small praying mantis stood on the curtain with cocked head, trying to kill everything with its furious praying mantis gaze. The expat teacher sprang into action, trying to make her camera go into macro mode with sheer will alone (and failing.) She pursued the mantis from curtain to wall to window, never managing to take a decent picture.
The little praying mantis – as proud as any of its kind – flew into the ceiling light in one last defiant kamakazi gesture, killing itself just to spite the expat teacher. Its small green body joined its brethren in the domed white tomb. It had won.
THE END
Story Number Four
Once upon a time, in the campus of a girls’ primary school in Singapore was a blue railing. It divided the road from the sidewalk and was usually bereft of life. One morning though, the Wednesday sun rose to illuminate a terrible and wonderful sight: two piles of red Singapore ants, all spindly legs and antennaes and beady black ant eyes. They didn’t move. They weren’t feeding. They simply sat in a still pile about four ants deep.
An expat teacher stood at the blue railing, blowing hard at the ant pile. Some students stood a few metres behind her, horrified. Slowly the ants started moving but they didn’t go anywhere, the just started moving their limbs around. Three hours later, they were still there. Four hours later, they were gone. What were the ants doing? By what fell means will they achieve their sinister goals? Were they ants at all? We may never know.
THE END
Story Number Five
Once upon a time, a woman went for a hike and saw a one-legged cricket trying to sing. It was heart-breaking.
THE END
