Have you met the bug in my backyard?
I think it is a bug. It has not told me otherwise.
The bug stands in place. It does not crouch or run. I named it Richard.
Richard will often have coffee with me. He prefers orange mugs. We do not say much. Richard is comforting.
He brought me flowers recently. Some plain white daisies. They are my favorite. Richard knows what I like. I poured him black coffee in an orange mug.
I married Richard. He lives inside. Sometimes he will walk outside for a minute or two. Richard tracks mud on the carpet. I like to clean the dirt away.
Richard has been playing hide-and-seek. It is getting harder to find him. I am worried about Richard.
It has been many years since Richard brought me daisies. But it is alright. I still have the dried flowers in a vase of water. I look at them often. Richard is still hiding.
I found him! He does not move. His skin is flakey. I carried him outside. I said to him, “Have you met the bug in my backyard?” He does not answer.
{cover art: The melancholy marriage, Modes et Manières de Torquate 1921}