382th Song of the Stinkbug, in honor of the 383rd Station

JOHN PAUL RITCHEY·FRIDAY, JULY 8, 2016

A dialogue regarding organized religion between two stinkbugs, shared for your enjoyment.

Location: A matte-white drape in a 21st Century suburban home. Dusk creeps away, and the vast rolling fields of white are slowly growing cold, shadows highlighting the textured landscape in shades of gray.

To the north, soaring high above, is the Light. It is always there, always calling. Now it is nothing but a speck, but at times it has owned the skies. To the south is death, darkness, and nothingness.

Stinkbug 1: … and in the middle of the desolation stands an armored warrior of the Stink. The matte brown of his armor contrasts with …
Stinkbug 2: (Skittering along-side) What are you doing?
Stinkbug 1: (Upset at being interrupted, pauses, shakes it off, continues) … The brown, angular shell of …
Stinkbug 2: (Now side by side) Excuse me, but what are you doing? The only reason I ask, and I have to admit it does sound rude now that I can see that you're actually standing there … talking … to, um, yourself. Well, you were just standing there, and I wanted to see if you were all right. Lots of our kind never make it. Have to stick together in this day and age and all that -
Stinkbug 1: I'm fine.
Stinkbug 2: - whaza - ? Stinkbug 1: You asked if I was all right. (Standoffish) I am.
Stinkbug 2: Oh. OK then! (Turns to go)
Stinkbug 1: As for WHAT I am doing, I would think THAT would be obvious. I am reciting the 382th Song of the Stinkbug, in honor of the 383rd station of my journey.
Stinkbug 2: (Pause, does math &hellip You're one off.
Stinkbug 1: Beg pardon?
Stinkbug 2: You're on the 382nd song, but 383rd station.
Stinkbug 1: Because of the stinkbug leap year.

(Stinkbug 2 waits patiently for the song to continue.)

ahem I am alone. Cold, dark and alone. (Frustrated look at Stinkbug 2.) It hasn't always been this way. In the Old Lands we were legion, and we will be again. But not now, not in my time. Now I travel on - (Concludes with head bowed in contemplation, followed by awkward silence)

Stinkbug 2: (Wistfully) Ah, the good old days. Where a bug's fruit was his castle!
Stinkbug 1: Would - You – Please!?!?!
Stinkbug 2: But I'm agreeing with you!
Stinkbug 1: (Cold Stare)
Stinkbug 2: I am! Weather was nicer, (Excitedly) OH! The sweet fruit was abundant! It was an absolute paradise in the Old Lands.
Stinkbug 1: Well, then, I would have to agree with you. Furthermore religion teaches us it was a magnificent time, when all was one with the Light. Divine Perfection!
Stinkbug 2: Well, except for the wasps.
Stinkbug 1: Beg pardon?
Stinkbug 2: The parasitic wasps. Don't have to deal with them anymore. They sound like quite the problem in the Old World.
Stinkbug 1: Parasitic Wasps!! Bah! The wasp is a myth created by non-believers to test our faith in the Light. (Rising cadence) The Light would never allow such an abomination to exist! Oh, the pure, Holy Light! It calls, it beckons, it reaches into the base of my mind and draws me onwards! I move to the Light, desperate to find it's source!!!!
Stinkbug 2: (Pause) So. North then?

(They proceed north.)

Stinkbug 1: (Continues with his Song) Silent as the wind I glide along -
Stinkbug 2: We.
Stinkbug 1: Wha - ? Stinkbug 2: We. “Silent as the wind WE (Happily indicates their connection) glide along.” We.
Stinkbug 1: (Rhetorically) You're obviously not an Orthodox bug, are you?
Stinkbug 2: Nope. I'm non-denominational. Kinda a “free-Stinker.”
Stinkbug 1: Silent as the wind … I … glide along, beginning to understand that this desolation will provide nothing of sustenance. Lo, to gorge myself on … (Long, harsh stare at Stinkbug 2 who can barely contain the sudden temptation to comment) … sweet fruit. (Stinkbug two dances for glee) Oh, to partake of the god's nectar once again! When days grow cold my heart aches for the orchards of summer. Now, just cold. Cold, tired, hungry and alone.
Stinkbug 2: (Stops in mid dance, reflecting on what was just said) Yeah but, YOU'RE not alone.
Stinkbug 1: I know that. Not now, at this moment. You're standing there.
Stinkbug 2: Yeah. But no. Not that. I mean YOU are not ALONE.
Stinkbug 1: … I don't understand.
Stinkbug 2: All those songs you recite. You didn't actually write them, someone else did a long time ago.
Stinkbug 1: Correct. They've been handed down, over and over, again and again. They're our Stinkbugstory.
Stinkbug 2: Exactly! That's why they're special. It is the common, shared stinkbug experience. The sweetest of nectar, with none of the pulp. But why? Why were those songs created in the first place?
Stinkbug 1: They were given to us so we know what the Light wants of us! The Songs show us our path and purpose! I ask you, how would we know what is ...