Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Four Hundred and Seventy-Four

They called it the monument when they bothered to speak of it. It had been in the city forever, and sometimes the young stopped to look at it  and wonder that it had neither purpose nor meaning.

Were the strange round things halfway down its mighty bulk eyes? Did it breathe through the holes in the strange beaky thing between them?

But it wasn’t of sufficient importance to occupy them for long and they soon scuttled off about the jobs they were allocated as soon as they dropped from their chrysalis.

Humans were yesterday and insects aren’t given to introspection.

©️jj 2020

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