It was a long way up. In retrospect, coming down the falls was easy. I held my breath and braced myself for a few smashes…and, waited for my final end; the end of cricket season, no more chirping, bug against a windscreen type of end.

The end came via being sprawled atop a piece of debris. It was glorious allowing it do the hard work of reaching the river side. Awash the two of us, the debris and I, we willed that shore line to us and then lay silent in prayer and grattitude. Freezing, for sure, but I was just too pooped to move. My little legs had enough for one day. I had no more kick. No more extreme sports for me. Jiminy Cricket. That was an extreme drop. I am so lucky to be alive.

Standing at the bottom of the falls, looking up, I gulped down the evidence of the daunting trek ahead of me. I wasn’t sure my legs were up to the task. I had to hop to it straight away though. My family was up there. They hadn’t seen me go over but I am certain that by now they will be missing my chirp. Worried they will be.

Okay. Let’s do it. One rock. Two rocks. Opps, slipped back down on the moss and slime. One rock. This is going to take a long time for this little cricket to get back up to my family. Why oh why weren’t crickets blessed with wings?




If you wish to join the Writers Prompt Daily simply use the above photo as a prompt and post a short story, poem or paragraph to your blog. Leave a comment and the link here so that all participants can come to you and read/comment/encourage. Story above is copyright and is Megan Bayliss' writing around the above picture prompt.