He didn’t much like the noise or the incessant crowds.
He sometimes thought about the idyllic life of a butterfly. Free to flit around in the open spaces that nature provides.
Or a fish, he thinks about a fish and the vast distances they can travel. Being part of a school that swim together ln unison, sometimes over vast distances. He thinks about the life of a bird. Up there, soaring. The ability to wing your way skyward and to keep going until there is simply not enough oxygen. To swoop and dive; to have a prevailing wind let you glide. For a while he crouched, just thinking about gliding.
Of course, all of this was a pipedream. His fate was sealed. He was lumbered with being a beetle, living under a waste bin in the concourse of a busy city railway station.