Keeping Stick Insects

Once they laid eggs. We put them in jars, changed the privet daily in case they emerged hungry. Nothing hatched. We forgot.
Somewhere in dark lockers the summer temperature attained their liking. They escaped bullet-hard spaces into re-enclosure. Died. We found them heaped, gone crunchy, six-each-screwed-up legs sealing our guilt.

© Pauline Masurel 2002