THE GIRL THAT LOOKS LIKE A BUG

One day he chose to be with her. He brought her to the farm. His Older Brothers were hard at work, while Orys took the luxury of entertaining the outside girl. He needed to make his mark, said his mother, let her know who he was.

He showed her where the bugs were. Somewhere by the creek where the soil is black and damp. Burnt branches left there by their village fed the ground beneath them. Under wet rocks, soldiers of decay sought shelter.

He held up a balled-up pill bug to her face. "This one looks like you." Isis held out her hands to receive it.

She rolled it around in her palms. Like toys, she thought. She wished it would unfurl and say hi. Orys put another curled up bug in her hands, and some more. He held some in his palms too; Isis watched them feebly explore fleshy terrain.

Not long after, the sun bathed the land with its goodbye. The two stayed there, squatted over a pit of crawly things, prodding at the pretty spirals until dusk turned them all blue.