The Cicadas are so loud. They used to keep me up at night, the constant toneless melody of their love that would haunt me.
Then I moved and I never felt lonelier. There was the honks of traffic, the murmur of the news as another person died, maybe the thumps of the neighbors fighting again.
But I heard one last night, just one, so lonely like me, looking for its mate.
I got excited and went outside, it was easy to find. I put it in a jar and took it back to my room, I was going to be its friend now.
But it tired to run away, I had to put the top on. I had to, I promise. I watched as its buzz softened, as its movements became slower, heavier. I was the Cicadas only friend. I named him Cid. But he doesn’t move or chirp anymore, doesn’t try to escape or play his melody.
He must love me, doesn’t want anyone to take his away from me, his best friend :)