Grand Schemes - Tiny Dreams

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It didn't want to be a beetle,
It didn't ask to be a beetle,
it just was a beetle and there was nothing it could do about it.
After all what power does 1 bug have in the grand scheme of things?
And to whom would it lodge a complaint?

As it slowly rotated falling ever earthward it imagined what it would be like to be something else. anything else but a beetle, a lowly beetle.
Packing its limbs in as tight as beetley possible it prepared for the inevitable impact, the impact of an ever increasingly large earth beneath it.

Typically a beetle would avoid a situation like this but this is one of those situations where a beetle's well being has not been taken into consideration. In the grand scheme of things the beetle doesn't get a look in, wheels have been set in motion...

Instinct tells it to prepare for a drop and roll. before presumable slamming in to something or being absorbed in to the mud, but something made it want to fight that instinct and attempt a glide.
Even the most optimistic of lowland beetles wouldn't attempt a glide n ride at this velocity, but something was urging it on.

Open your bloody wings!

Fly!

The earth loomed even closer as the air hurtled upwards air adopting a liquid-like consistency and pulling and its wing-casing as the fall continued.

Come one, fly you little sucker!

Suddenly the beetle gave in and spreads its shell casing to reveal four semitransparent wings. It floundered and flapped manically like a fish on land for a some time before assuming a graceful and managed fall to the earth.

Where it found its self staring at a giant ass.

Every beetles dream come true, he had hit it big time alright.  Good job it opened those wings when it did other wise it could have ended up gods know where splattered across some rock on stuck upside down in the mud waiting for some bird to come along and pick it off.

Something happens when dreams come true, with a human they might jump up and down and cheer, with cats they purr manically and attempt to wrap themselves around something and with beetles they shuffle their feet and wiggle. And that is exactly what the beetle did as is awaited its treasure, crap being the currency of the insect kingdom.

It wasn't going to be long before lunch would be served.

The beetle looked around, up until now it never had any interest in its surroundings but evidently dinner had been postponed, so the beetle surveyed the ground in order to determine what the ass had been eating.

Of course this beetle wasn't strictly speaking a picky eater but it did pride its self on knowing what ingredients went in to the preparation of its meal....the grass looked good.

Unknown to the beetle eight months later there was a tsunami seen off the cost of Athens, the beetle begins to tuck its wings back in to their shell before shuffling forwards.

As it looked at the ass it began to experience some strange sensations ...it began to think.

This was a strange and confusing experience at first because beetles traditionally weren't thinkers.

Traditionally beetles just accept things as they are and get on with it, but for this beetle something had changed, something had ignited the spark of imagination.

The beetle started to imagine scenarios where it could some how store a meal underground in case of a rainy day like the mammals do. It started to conjure ways it could persuade other beetles to do the work for it like the ants and termites do... its tiny mind was racing with new thought and ideas and it slowly awaited foods arrival.

And then out of nowhere a questing formed in its mind, and it quietly thought 'What exactly is this all about?'.  At this moment the beetle slowly started to become self aware.

Beatles shouldn't be able to even conceive the notion of a name or identity but this beetle did it anyway, it names its self I.

A rather unimaginative name but a name never the less, and lets not forget it was a beetle after all and incredibly new to this. Now that 'I' had established its self as a conscious being within what appeared to be an automated world 'I' began to consider larger questions...

The average digestion time of your male lowland donkey can range from anything from 30 to 180minutes from mouth to rear.  From the perspective of your average beetle this is equates to 3 to 12 months in beetle time, more than enough time to come to terms with the cycle of life, rudimentary existentialism and applied Dungology.

By the time the lush moisture enriched grass had reached the food hatch the beetle had lost interest in what was on the menu.  As the steaming hot vegan delicacy dished its self out with a little help from gravity the beetle, for the first time looked on in disgust.

The donkey now satisfied with its new slimmer appearance slowly began to trot off in the direction of the sun and the beetle thinks back over its short but eventful life and the dreams it had not 4 months ago of starting a business empire distributing crap to the masses and making its self a tidy pile in the process. 

I now knew its place, its slowly shuffled over towards a tempting looking pile, it made I feel like physically sick, which infuriated I as this is the method beetles consume their food only adding to the dilemma. "How can I eat this knowing what it is?" I thought to its self, fighting of its natural instinct.

The pile steamed away wafting a sweet tasty aroma in the direction of I's scent receptacles.

As the smell become ever increasingly hard to resist the beetle slowly backs away, catching the attention of a passer by.

Within the microcosm of I's world, with its valleys, trees of grass, turbants of rain and wind and other phenomenon the passer was merely another part of the ever changing unpredictable world with its horrific sense of humour.  But the passer by was more than part of the scenery the passer by was an active player in the story of life ...and this player was wearing hat!

I knew nothing of hats or anything about the dressing traditions and habits of humans, few beetles do and the ones that do wouldn't be able to tell you that much about the subject. If I was to be aware of the concept of clothing it would probably summarise that one shell is enough.

I continued its withdrawal from the still steaming mound as the wind changed, much to it's relief.

The ground at once sturdy and solid slowly beings to become sticky and fluid then begins to shake and thud.

A feeling approximate to fear flushes across the beetle for the first time as it slowly turn in the direction of the pounding. As the intensity on the impacts increase and draw nearer I sees the source, and the source sees I.

An object barely conceivable in size moving at fantastical speed against the force of wind was looming overhead and it was wearing what a human would call a hat. The hat was even more distinctive than the human that adorned it, unknown to I in this particular part of the world only one profession of human wear that kind of hat.

The hat was a wizard's hat.

Sensing that for some reason the massive entity had taken a specific interest in him I began to panic, its tiny feet still as solid earth it looked upward at the new object looming over, the almost transparent object. Before the beetle could comprehend what was happening its new invisible home had surrounded it. Some moment later if found a fresh lump of dung placed near it. 

If a beetle possessed tear glands it would surely have wept at that moment as the twisted hand of nature asserted its demand that this beetle should take its place. The beetle stared at its meal and its meal stared back. 

I began to feel sick again, and it dawned on the beetle that for some reason the wind had completely vanished.

The beetle took a closer look at its meal of freshly processed vegetation and took some consideration of the events of its day so far and finally  as the lust aroma wafted over it the beetle began to feel content and threw up..