Confessions of a Cockroach and Headstone - Johnson Mike

two stories, head to toe read one and follow the wormhole to the other.

The cockroach knows all the scurrying places down on Insect Street. More than that, it can go to places no other creature can go, into the dark places, the slithering places, the cracks and crevices. The cockroach can eat the darkness. It eats away at the dark walls nobody can see. Its bronze shell protects it, and enables it to make the return to this visible world. Thus it takes on the ability to move from one realm to another, one world to another.

It’s fitting that your
wandering has brought you to this little corner of the world, this single spot on the map. On that map, an arrow points to you. You are here, where you find yourself. Think, for a moment, of all the other places you could be. I bet most of them are better than this, standing in front of me, a shabby old headstone, wondering what you’re doing here. As I said, I’m not much to look at; what you see is what you get. It’s what you came for; that’s the thing. That’s what we all need to know. Everybody comes for something, even if just to play on the grass with the children or join the picnic.