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There’s a cricket in my room. I can hear it. I thought they only chirp at night, but this one goes no matter the time of day. I’m not sure exactly where he is. Whenever I think I narrowed down his location, his chirping jumps to the other side of the room, so I’ve given up looking. I don’t really mind him here. There’s only one.
I kinda feel bad for him. I looked it up, and the reason he’s chirping is because he’s trying to attract a mate. I don’t want to personify bugs, but just thinking that he’s been chirping nonstop for days now makes me think he’s quite desperate.
His life is so short, too. In comparison to mine, that is. I saw that when I looked them up. He’s only gonna be an adult for a little while. I don’t know how old he is now, but I’d really hate for him to spend the rest of his life here. Especially when he’s looking for other crickets.
And it's just him and me in here. There aren't any other crickets and he's calling out for them and he's getting no reply. I can't chirp back. I know it's silly, but I’ve tried. I don’t want him to feel so alone. My mouth doesn't make the right shape. It comes out more like a squeak and I don’t think he sees it as someone trying to talk back. He must feel so alone.
I want to get him out of here. I don’t want him to stay, not for myself, but for him. There aren't any crickets in here, they’re all outside. He needs to be outside. I just. I can’t find him. His chirps come from everywhere. They bounce off the walls so perfectly that I can't locate him. And they’re so loud. They resonate in my bones. All the time. Just. Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
I wish I could talk back to him.
I wish he wasn’t so alone.