little buggies

i wrote a story once about a planet pretty close to earth. In the story, the planet was filled with tiny little insects that could talk. The tiny little buggies were the most advanced species on the planet, or at least they thought so. In fact the little buggies were so advanced that they liked to build machines to make their lives better, machines to keep each other alive, and machines to give them pleasure, but they especially liked inventing machines with which to smash each other with. The little buggies would separate into teams based on how many legs they had or how big their buggy eyes were or whether they could fly or not. Then the teams of buggies would play with fancy squashing machines.

The buggies believed that they had evolved from a smaller less intelligent organism. What most of them didn't think about was if they had in fact evolved from that lesser being, all of the little buggy machines were really messing up the whole evolutionary process. The machines were making it so all of the sickly buggies and the buggies with deformities and malfunctions were being allowed to make more little buggies. This went on for so long that the buggies actually suffered from de-evolution, a fact which they were too busy with buggy machines to notice. Actually there were a couple especially intelligent buggies that realized what was happening, but when they tried to tell other little buggies they ended up in buggy jail or buggy institutions for the mentally disturbed. But the de-evolution didn't last for long, all the little buggies ended up squashing each other with nasty machines until every little buggy was a little puddle on the windshield of history.

I threw the story away, but i think it went something like that. it was shit.

“I’m never going to the library with you again” : A Fart story

The sky was fading to a gradient blue/black, and the trees were jagged silhouettes against the city lights reflected on the grey clouds. I hadn’t accomplished a lot during the day so it seemed that the twilight was where i would find my productivity.
So there we were, my girlfriend and I, sitting in the the dim, quiet upstairs of our university library. Only the sporadic tip tip tipping of gentle fingers on key boards and page turning drive bys could be heard in the dampened air between the book shelves. The ancient musk of withering hardbacks loomed around us. The beige nostalgia of the 70’s that clung to the wall was only visible behind ramparts of books tightly packed onto the shelves.

Only a half dozen hard at work peers were within earshot. The pressures of the day were building up inside of me. The stresses of class and the disappointment of poor food quality were pressing hard against my soul. If only there were respite, a release from the tension.

“Shhh” I said

“What?” she asked

“just listen” I said

And in the deafening silence the pressures of college life released.

“I’m never going to the library with you again” echoed softly into the cosmos.