Ace of Hearts

A Beetle’s Feast on a Banana Peel

Once upon a time, there was a little beetle. He was black and unassuming on his six thin little legs. One day, as he was crawling through the bushes along the country road, he was suddenly struck by a breathtaking scent. “Hey, that smells absolutely amazing—like folklore and adventure,” he said to his girlfriend, who was strutting along behind him. It was one of those many gloomy rainy days when you yawn, twiddle your thumbs, wait it out, and drink tea—there in the undergrowth near the highway. Trash lay all around the road; people simply tossed their garbage out the window as they drove by. Sometimes it was really bad for the little crawlers. Every now and then a tin can would land on one of them, and it was gone. But today seemed to be a lucky day.

“This is incredibly addictive! Come on, let’s call the others over. Let’s have a scent fiesta!” said his friend. And just like that, she was gone. Although he liked the idea of a party with the others, he had no desire to leave this heavenly cloud of scent. Enveloped by it, he crouched happily on his bright yellow pad, which felt soft and velvety. He had landed in the land of milk and honey—and it was dry, too, under the dense canopy of the hazel bush.

Surrounded by this splendor of fragrance, coziness, and honey-colored beauty, his senses were swept away, and he began to dream of a distant land where all the trees and bushes glowed with this yellow hue and where only this heavenly aroma existed. It felt as though the warm sun were personally embracing him, caressing him, cradling him, and patting him gently. Never before had his heart felt so at ease.

As he soaked up this bliss, he felt a tingling sensation in his six little legs. They suddenly seemed so graceful and elegant, as if he had just danced in *Swan Lake*. The music of the overture still echoed in his ears. “Hello, my friend!” someone called out right beside him. The chirping of a whole flock of friends snapped him out of his trance. All his faithful fellow beetles from the dump scurried over to celebrate with him the glorious scent of dazzling folklore and adventure. He was still filled with the caress of the sun, his joyful little legs were still tingling, and he was still overjoyed to be in this glorious yellow paradise.

He called out, “Welcome, everyone, beetle friends! Today is a day of joy! Let our hearts sing and cheer! Come on, let’s dance the ring dance!”
Young and old crawled around, and in the blink of an eye, a circle formed. Everyone crouched on their four hind legs, joined hands with their front legs, and began spinning in a circle. Accompanied by the deafening chirping of their middle hind legs, raindrops drummed out a salsa rhythm on the leaf canopy above them. The party was simply perfect!

As they danced like that, tears rolled down the little beetle’s cheeks: they were one! Yes, his grandfather, who had recently passed away, was missing, and so was his sister. She had been pecked to death by a bird just the day before. Yes, and some friends were missing, whose lives had come to an end in one way or another. But they were still one!