Sunday, July 12, 2009

It Shimmers On The Calm Dark Diving Board

When my brother first started tailoring tiny suits for crickets and later for other insects, we all thought he had sat down at his trousers rather than actually putting them on, if you know what I mean. But when his 1986 "Stone Dreadful" locust collection made him a star in the insect world, we changed our tune, and I changed what I had written about the situation in my memoirs, putting a more positive spin on it.

We travelled to the opening show in Garden City, Kansas, but when we arrived, I realized that I had unfortunately forgotten my favorite forefinger in either the second or third rental car. I was doing a lot of expectorating at the time, under the keenest scrutiny of my personal physician, who was at my side at all times, and he advised me not to go back for the finger; to just forget about it.

I decided that I needed to try and get my mind off my missing forefinger and familiarize myself with the marshes of the region, using the aid of a homemade compass comprised of a pin cushion and a magnet. Long story short, I got lost and subsequently kidnapped and ended up spending several years locked in isolated confinement. Every night I would reluctantly put on my collar and nestle into the sickly bedding, stroking my beautiful Roman nose to make myself tired enough to sleep there.

There was one small slit in the ceiling, so if I stood on my tippy toes I could glimpse a small sliver of the sky. One night as I peered through the crack, I caught a glimpse of a firefly wearing one of my brother's suits and it was then that I realized that I had never before shared, and in fact never would share, a thimble of sugar water with an insect of any kind.

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