office buddies

I share an office with a boxelder bug, likely one of many. I take pictures of it, but I won’t show them in full here because it keeps landing on spaces that need cleaning—a dusty shelf, a tangle of wires, my lapel. Always around, its antennae seek something—perhaps to point to another mess—but now, they point to the back room, the sloping woods, an approaching deer turning into a cow, turning into a lady in a short skirt, urgently asking me for the way to the bathroom.