Cochran Cornell the cantankerous cockroach finds his natural behavior gets him into trouble. The situation is so disastrous that he KNOWS his end is near. His friends abandon him, and he finds a creature so unlike him for support. Parts of his story will be posted during a two-week period. Click back to find the continuation of the saga, which will be filed under Cochran's writings on this blog. COCHRAN THE COCKROACH, CAUGHT ON FLYPAPER! Sunbeams shone through the window, heralding the arrival of spring while illuminating the craggy corner and making visible the dust bits dancing through the air. This light dismayed Cochran, who normally skittered helter-skelter to a dark crack in the wall or hid under an appliance at the first inkling of any kind of light. But today was different. Today he was stuck, literally imprisoned, unable to escape the abhorrent brightness that descended in the room. The previous hours were innocent enough as Cochran enthusiastically earned his title “cantankerous curmudgeon” by systematically terrorizing his bugmates. His memory-file of all their foibles, faults and failings, and the fiercest words in the cockroach language were enhanced by his innate grasp of using this knowledge to antagonize the bugmates. His derogatory comments hit on friend and foe alike---albeit, the term “friend” was nebulous---as he ran about in such an indefinite racecourse that it would take a genius to decipher his tracks. Cochran, when he dared see anything positive, expressed appreciation grudgingly. It was that way with the prime real estate he considered his home. This low-life house was in a neighborhood filled with dilapidated homes and littered lawns. Several thousand cockroaches could party on scrumptious crumbs, dried food on plates, moldy pizza in boxes thrown on the floor, overflowing garbage cans and remnants of plaster dust from deteriorating walls. It was quite a spread for the cockroaches. Energized by the dark and their banquet they were able to take Cochran’s biting insults in stride. Cochran recalled his joy at last night’s extra treats. The dried donuts, chips and dips had given him the burst of energy that landed him in this sticky situation. While rejoicing his way, by insulting the other roaches, he landed in mid-course---dead-center on a piece of sticky fly paper---a human had tossed out amongst the rubble. Finding he could only move two of his legs, a rarely heard screeching noise emerged from deep within his gut, piercing the air so harshly it caught the attention of all, and created an unheard of phenomenon among them. They all managed to head for the same spot at the same time, skittering like well-tuned cows responding to their milking call. They gathered around the unimaginable tragedy. A piece of sticky flypaper, in Cochrans’ path, had trapped him. He’d been running so fast that he hadn’t stuck before he was in far enough they couldn’t reach him, about an inch distant. | 
