He sneaks into my apartment somehow every now and then, even in the winter with the windows closed and winterized, he still occasionally gets in.
He’s kind of like the magician Houdini, who could break out of almost anything back in the early 1900s, but instead of being an escape artist, he’s a break in artist.
He’s a weird looking critter to say the least. He’ll never win a bug beauty contest for sure.
And he’s sitting here looking at me now probably thinking of me as some weird looking god that’s probably a false god compared to the stink bug deities he worships.
I could end his life in a flash, but he’s a gentle soul who never bites or causes me any trouble.
He’s just sitting on my computer now and he’s got a dreamy look on his face, probably thinking about his latest stink bug girlfriend, been there, know the feeling.
Were he a mosquito, I’d be bitten, and that bug would be taken out in a bug crushing minute.
Unlike the stink bug with whom I’m smitten because of his unique appearance and gentle nature. And in a moment instead of killing him, I will gently coax him onto a piece of paper and release him into the freedom of the night outside my apartment.
I’m sure he’s not gentle with smaller prey, but it is not his fault he’s created to kill to eat.
We may not all do the killing, but we eat smaller things that are killed by others; it’s nature’s way.
Even the vegans are accessories to things killed for their sustenance, like all those innocent vegetables that silently scream when cruelly unrooted from the earthly homes and savagely consumed.
Poor stink bug saddled with a name that stinks. If only when he was named, he could have had a say and chosen a cooler name, like Most Awesome Bug.
Bob Boyd
