Stories

The Dragonfly

A Dragonfly alighted on a lily pad. The air above the pond was thick and hot. A morning ray, peaking between the surrounding trees, shimmered off the Dragonfly's iridescent body and wings.

On a neighboring pad, a Frog sat motionless.

"I'm more beautiful than you, am I not?" said the Dragonfly to the Frog.

The Frog said nothing.

"Your body is a lump with only long ugly fingers and toes to break up the monotony. Mine is long and slender with elegant proportions and a perpendicularity that breaks up the viewing and makes me endlessly interesting."

She watched him for a response with her huge compound eyes, but he gave none.

"And I can fly. You can't fly. You can only jump around awkwardly, one unbalanced hop at a time. When I move, I am in complete control. I can hover in place or zip along in a straight line. You can only rise a few inches at most, whereas I far excel you in that regard."

The Frog stayed silent, and the Dragonfly grew bored with her company. Noticing she was hungry, she beat her four spotted wings and flew off to find something to eat.

A Mosquito, finishing a meal on a nearby rabbit, whined into the air. The Dragonfly caught it with her legs.

"No one likes you," said the Dragonfly to the Mosquito. "You bite other animals or complain in their ear. Not to mention your ugliness. You are pathetically thin, and you slouch. Have you no pride? How can anyone find you attractive hunched over all the time? My physique is just right. My posture is always properly erect. And my wings are pretty, don't you think?"

Her audience was too terrified to speak. The Dragonfly grew bored, and remembering why she caught the Mosquito in the first place, ate it.

Satisfied with her breakfast, the Dragonfly landed on a log to digest. A Turtle pulled itself out of the water onto the other end and began to take in the sun.

"You'll never see beyond this pond," said the Dragonfly to the Turtle. "I can fly all around. I have seen other ponds and even rivers—endless, winding rivers that are a gentle brown or white with rapids. But you are stuck here because you are slow and clumsy. All you do is float or sit. You're no better than this log. I, on the other hand, make my own destiny. I go where I will, have interesting experiences, and converse with many."

The Turtle, true to her description, merely sat and did not reply.

The Dragonfly lifted herself off the log and moved on.

With her thousands of lenses, she searched the pond for someone else to speak to. She spotted the Frog, and feeling ungratified by his earlier silence, she returned to the lily pad.

"I ate tadpoles when I was a larva," she began immediately, "lots and lots of tadpoles. They were not even very delicious, not compared with water beetles and worms and small fish. Of all the foods I ate, tadpoles tasted the worst. I've heard dragonflies are delicious. It's probably because we're so—"

The Frog's tongue leapt out of his mouth, stuck to the Dragonfly's tail, and retracted with her attached. He bit down on her long body and began the steady process of swallowing.

As the Frog brought the Dragonfly deeper into his mouth, inch after inch, she called out to the Turtle on his log. "Help!" She called out to the rabbit nibbling clover beyond the shore. "Help me!" She called out to anyone. "Help me, please!" But no one helped.

In desperation, the Dragonfly grasped for one more taste of vanity before the end: "I am more delicious than other food, am I not?"

The Frog did not indulge her with a response. With one last gulp, he swallowed her pride.

But yes, the Frog mused as his eyes closed in gratification, she was.

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