Cricket Monologue Essay

I reach into the daunting bag of doom. I pull out the smallest little cricket and lay it in my hands. I glare for a second. Eye to eye, one weird dead little cricket is lookin at me as I hold it in my hands. As I look at it , It gives me the shivers. It’s microscopics short legs curled up with it’s black huge eye’s, It’s wing is dried like a leaf, thin as a wet newspaper.

I look away from the cricket I see everyone around me all I hear is yuk, ewwww, gross. Some people seem to like eating cricket and just want more. I guess cricket is just a I hate it or I love it. I look back at the cricket in my hand that lays before myself all think is ewwww what am I thinking I can eat a cricket. As my friends encourage me to eat it.

Every part of me