Updated: Feb 7
Do you know the indignity of being nameless? No? Well, I do. You see, it took a long time for the humans to name me. When they did decide on a name, they came up with Cricket because I'm rather small, quite black, I like to bounce around, and I chitter-chirp.
But, that's not where my story begins So, lets back up to a year ago - long before the humans came into my life - when everything first began. Okay, well, maybe not from the first. More like from my first memory.
A Cold February Morning...
I suppose we all have a mother, someone who saw us first come into this world, someone who probably loved us and cared for us so that we would grow big and strong. But, I don't remember my mother very much. My memories of her are less of what she looked like and more of what I felt when I was with her in my earliest days. I have a vague memory of being crowded and pushed around by my siblings (I assume that's who they were) and an essence of a place that smelled of damp, musty earth. Of a place where I must have been born on a cold February morning.
Not actually Cricket