Member-only story
I Watched Two Bugs Grieve Like Humans
When Bugs Say Goodbye….
It was early, too early. Even the sun seemed reluctant to rise. I walked into the bathroom, groggy, hair like a bird’s nest, toothbrush hanging from my mouth, and then I saw them.
Three tiny insects!
One of them wasn’t moving. The other two were circling around it like they were holding some sort of private ceremony. Not in a rushed, panicked way. In a slow, deliberate, gentle way. One would give the tiniest little nudge, then the other. Then they’d stop. Then another nudge. A strange kind of rhythm. Like grief had a pattern, even for them.
It caught me completely off guard. These were bugs. Literal BUGS! I should’ve looked at them and said “gross” and moved on with my day. But I didn’t. I stood there, watching them in silence, like I’d just stumbled into something sacred. Like I wasn’t supposed to be there.
Everything else was normal. Other insects were doing their usual scuttling. Climbing up the sink, slipping in puddles, living their tiny lives, completely unaware of this little funeral happening next to them.
Isn’t that how it always is? Some are grieving. Some are just brushing their teeth.
