I walked out into the humid afternoon heat for a cigarette. I needed to get away from the fluorescent lights gleaming down on me and the screaming of a child and the racket of wrestling hounds around my feet. One of the old green patio chairs, outside the door, had a puddle of water and tree debris in it's seat that I had previously ignored. Inside the puddle kicking it's little legs uselessly was a lady bug, on it's back.  It took me all of a half a second (or less) to decide to help the poor bug struggling.  I tipped the chair over and let gravity take the water and the lady bug to the ground, and what I had hoped was a safe place for it to get back on it's feet. I watched for the lady bug and after a moment of scouting found it on the damp ground, still on it's back, kicking. I decided to help it further by nudging it with the tip of my shoe, to turn it over... it didn't work, he just slid but his kicking ceased.

As silly as this all sounds to some, I was saddened.  Yes, it's only a lady bug but it didn't matter.  I reached down with my hand and tipped it over only to find it still made no movements. I felt bad for taking a life and sat there thinking about all of it and how this pertained to my life.  I did an injustice, trying to help the little guy I only did more harm than good.  By the time I finished my cigarette and my thought process I stubbed out the cigarette only to look down and see that the lady bug was, though not moving, turned a different direction... After a couple seconds I noticed leg movement and then the lady bug was on it's way, to dry ground, I assume... And there was a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, not everything I touch turns to shit.