Killing the
Survivor Bug
Janet Kuypers
2/12/17
Once springtime came
we went to a bar,
got a pitcher of a light
fruity beer for the
spring weather —
but with spring
came a whole new fleet
of tiny little insects
that swarmed the
syrupy liquor bottles
because they too
were looking for
something sweet.
So at one point
I had had a full pint
from my pitcher
of sweet fruity beer,
the glass was just
sitting there, and
that’s when I noticed
a bug at the top
of my beer. Apparently
he was thirsty too,
but he just flew in there,
and I thought
just get him out,
place him on the bar
to see if he will live.
and so he placed
the bug on his finger,
moved it to the bar,
and let the bubble
of beer on his finger
glide the bug to the bar.
And then we waited.
And no more than
ten seconds later,
the bug moved
our of the water,
and I screamed
“He’s the survivor bug!”
before the bug
got enough
energy together
to fly away.
And this is such
a frivolous thing,
but, I mean,
it was spring,
it’s time to celebrate.
Think of it
as life anew,
and we laughed
and enjoyed our beer,
because I’m sure
the alcohol
would kill any germs
from little bug,
and we went back
to socializing.
But at one point
I look up,
and see him
swatting at a bug
and killing it dead.
I stared for a second.
“Did you just kill
the survivor bug?”
I asked, and suddenly
swatting one bug
suddenly made him
feel like he just
used friendly fire
to kill one of his
brothers in arms.
And after that,
if we ever saw
a bug in our beer
we’d suddenly act
like Mother Theresa —
because after
that spring day, we
somehow understood
how previous
all life could be.
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