Grasshopper story

I lay in bed in an upstairs bedroom in a house of Suffolk thinking for the second time that day, and probably in a decade, of the artist Edward Hopper after looking at pictures on the wall downstairs. As I did so I felt something brush against my arm, turned on the light and it was a grasshopper, which I unfortunately found dead near the washbasin the next morning. Insects rarely if ever brush my arm at night, and certainly not grasshoppers in England, and the coincidence convinced me of animal intelligence.
Total votes: 15
Date submitted:Sun, 10 Oct 2021 10:46:56 +0000Coincidence ID:11817