Woodlouse lunch

Mr Woodlouse reached for his coat and trundled towards the door.
“Shan’t be long love” he said to his wife,  as the little woodlice looked searchingly up at their departing father.
“Just popping out to look for some crumbs”.
Mr Woodlouse crawled upwards towards the light, all his legs moving in a wave of harmony.
He didn’t see the large head of the lizard silhouetted against the cloudy sky.
Nor did he see the sudden twitch of attention as the reptile eyed the trundling crustacean, just within reach.
Neither did Mr Woodlouse see the long tongue as it flicked towards him.
The first the Woodlouse knew was the rush of air and then the wet crushing feeling in the lizards mouth.
Before he could think of anything his life was ebbing away and he was sinking into the dark acids of the lizards stomach.
Mrs Woodlouse scurried around her little hollow home, shooing the little woodlice into their sleeping space.
Not thinking, more feeling, she sensed the absence of her partner and felt a sense of loss, in a Woodlouse sort of way.
The Lizard on the other hand felt a sense of satisfaction as his little snack dissolved into his belly and he rested in the morning sunshine.
One animal’s lunch is another animal’s husband!
Tell me? Did a God design this world?

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