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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Self Help · #2136249
The meaning of life
One dreary morning, after a full day of rain, Mr. Slug was out taking a three-hour walk across the patio. As he crossed the damp concrete slab near his normal stomping grounds, he thought to himself…”What in the hell is my purpose in life?”

Not being fleet of foot, seeing as how he only had one foot and it was flat, he had a lot of time to think about life as he slithered along to his next safe haven.

During these occasional long walks, Mr. Slug would encounter his neighbors and observe with great envy their daily routines. Their entire lives seemed so driven by purpose, so busy, so much more important than his.

On this day, after yesterday’s steady rain, numerous earthworms were taking a breather from their normal profession as Earth Aerators, a position which provided room for the roots of all flora to grow.

Above the bed of Mr. Slug’s eventual designation, honey bees and bumblebees buzzed about, tirelessly going about their mission of pollinating the plants. The bees were well-known as major players in the production of the world’s foods and flowers.

Amongst the flora were also Ladybugs and lacewings and dragonflies and spiders, all so busy in playing their special part in something so special. Their mission protected the plants from a never ending assault of pesky pests.

And each and every one of these colorful characters were all-so-impressive, which had Mr. Slug feeling extra self-conscious. Mr. Slug was never much of a looker and mostly kept to himself for fear of being laughed or joked about.

But as he reached the edge of the damp concrete slab, and headed down its wall, something encouraging suddenly dawned on him. He could produce not one, but two different types of trails of slime, the first of which had brought him to this edge and a second, thicker slime that allowed him to travel up and down the concrete walls.

Hey, that’s pretty impressive, he thought to himself.

And you know what dammit?

“I, Mr Slug, recycle the decomposing organic stumps and lumps that I find on the ground, releasing key nutrients, further enriching the Earth’s soil. The same soil that the earthworms aerate, in which the flowers and vegetables flourish, which are later pollinated by the bees and butterflies, those same plants later protected by the Ladybugs and lacewings and dragonflies and spiders.”

I’m not flashy, and no one may notice me, but I AM important. The others, in my circle of life, would not flourish if I didn’t do my own little part. I exist, so that we all exist.

I am Mr. Slug.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2136249