Ant Malkovich

Harry Jonathan Chong

1.

When I was a kid everyone around me told me I would grow up to be a loser. So, I kept my nose to the
grindstone, metaphorically speaking, and I worked hard for years, and years just to prove them wrong.
Eh, turns out they were right. I'm now currently a loser. If you looked up "loser" in the dictionary, you
wouldn't find my picture, because why would anyone want to see my face?
But that's how it was. I had all these hopes, and dreams, and I really, really tried, and then I just
kept failing. Was it bad luck? Or was I truly a buffoon? If I have any objectivity whatsoever, I would
say that it's a combination of things. One, my bad looks, two, my sheer stupidity, and three, a lot of
other shitty stuff that I have chosen not to recall.
It's okay though. Not, it's not okay, but today, I have something to celebrate. Finally, things are
going my way, sorta. Because guess what? I finally finished my latest greatest novel.
I banged on them keys, and wrote down: "The End." Oh, God. Oh, Jesus. Oh, uh, the holy
spirit... It felt good! I was so relieved that I started crying. A three year journey to the finish line was
over, at least in the creative sense. All I had to do now was convince people to read my manuscript.
I saved my files on my computer, and began the process of crafting my queries. I took the whole
damn day to write down a pitch to fool people, I mean convince them into reading my novel. How
could they refuse?
The novel was my baby, and I wasn't not no amateur. Nope! I wasn't a newb. This was novel #5.
LOL. Mambo #5. Sorry, that song just came in my head. You know, Lou Bega. That song about that
guy crushing on all those girls like a pimp. It's funny. I read a story about him, and after that song came
out, he thought he was made.
He went on a spending spree, and started bragging to everyone about how he was the next
Michael Jackson. And then it turned out he wasn't the next Michael Jackson. Everyone forgot about
him, and all that money he spent in his glee left him broke.
Man, I love stories like that. It gives me hope. If anyone that stupid can make it, at least to a
certain degree, hey, so can I. Every idiot has a chance, right? And I'm the biggest idiot out of them all. I
didn't even go to university, or college, because the paperwork confused me. I have a problem with
paying attention to things, or keeping on one line of thought. I often go on talks that derail a
conversation, or completely distract, and confuse people. That's just the type of person I am.
I'm like the guy, who forgets things a lot. What's his name again? I think they called him the
"Reverse Rain Man." Similar to the Rain Man, but in the reverse. You know, I'm not sure why they
called Rain Man the Rain Man. Was it because he could count all the rain droplets, or something? If
anyone knows Dustin Hoffman, please ask him for me.
Anyway, back to what I was saying earlier. Oh, yeah, oh yeah. I remember now. I was going on
about the novel I just finished. I took the time to write out my query letter.

It came out something like this:

"Dear So, and So Agent,

How are you doing on this very fine day? I've just completed a novel 191,816 words in length.
Someone who read it told me it was boring, and derivative, but I disagree. I'm sure that the intensity of
my emotions while writing my book has transferred over.
So, what's it about? Well, there's this ragtag team of anthropomorphic animals, much like the
Ninja Turtles, or Animorphs, and they have to save the world from a maniacal maniac named Lance
Brass, who wants to destroy the human population using a virus that makes people think they are
constantly under attack from bees.
Sounds weird, right? Well, it's not. The bees make people run around, and slam into walls, and
jump off buildings. Imagine if everyone thought there were bees attacking them. They'd go crazy.
Scary, isn't it?
Well, anywho, please take a look at my novel. If you do I will be ever so grateful. Nobody likes
me. I need this. If you don't respond, I will cut myself. Thanks."

2.

The very next day when I woke up at a bright, and early at 1 PM in the morning, I took my printed out
query letters, and went for a walk to the local post office. The local post office was my favorite place to
go to, because going there felt like I was making progress in my life. All those business dealings, and
parcels exchanged, and employees stealing money from envelopes felt so grand.
Well, double lucky for me, as my walk outside coincided with a clap of thunder. And then
lightening. And then some more thunder, and finally, rain. A real downpour, too. I was I had brought
my umbrella, but then I remembered I didn't own an umbrella. A writer can't afford fancy things like
umbrellas. He just has to run really fast.
And that's what I did. I ran really fast, and I slipped, and fell. I slammed onto the ground much
like a pancake slamming into a pan. I got up, and noticed the blood on my elbows. I touched my
forehead. There was some blood on it.
Lucky for me, the rain washed away some of the blood. But I was still a little annoyed. This is
my big day. The day my life changes, finally, after all these years, and turns around! I hope this wasn't
Zeus sending me an omen.
I didn't like omens. Omens tends to foreshadow something annoying. An omen is never a good
omen, is it? I looked this up in the dictionary, and it said omens can mean that something good, or bad
is going to happen. Yet it seems like omens are only for shitty occurrences, such as breaking your leg
after someone tells you to break a leg, or accidentally farting in a closed elevator with someone you
find very attractive, and it's just the two of you.
"C'maaan," I told myself out loud. "Don't let the weather get you down. Think positive, and
positive things will happen. The rain is good for the earth. It's like a drink for thirsty Mrs Gaia, ruler of
Earth."
(Oh, Jesus -- do I talk exactly as I write? Not that it matters, because no one is going to read
this. He-he-he.)
So, onward I went, down the sidewalk, where a car sped by, and ran over a puddle of water in a
pothole. It went "KERSPLASH!" right onto my stupid face. I soaked, even more than before. And there
was someone who saw this all. He laughed at me. He laughed at my misery involving rain water!
I yelled at him, "Hey, you! What do you think this is? A show? My life isn't a joke, ! It's not a
joke! I should be happy, and have a good life, and all that! Stop looking away!"
But he did look away, and then he started walking, and then running, at a very good speed, I
might add.
I waved my paw with a "bah!" then continued on my journey. It reminded me of Lord of the
Rings, with all the walking, and nothing else happening.
Finally, I got to the post office.

3.

I wiped my feet off, and went into the post office. I stood there, soaked, dripping water on the floor.
The people that saw me had disgusted looks on their faces as if I had stolen their babies, or began
mowing my lawn at three in the morning.
I felt like an asshole, but tried ignoring them, and took a spot in the back. I needed to get my
letters stamped, and sent out ay-sap. Does it sound cool when someone says A.S.A.P. as ay-sap? I think
so. Yeah. So, where was I?
I was in the back of this line, or as the British say "queue." It was going real slow, and not being
the owner of any electronic devices, I didn't have anything to really pass the time. I couldn't be a part of
the phenomenon that was Angry Birds.
Instead, I started whistling Christmas songs, and twiddling my thumbs. I didn't know if I was
being annoying, or quirky. Sometimes it's hard to tell if you are only borderline quirky. Although no
one has called me quirky before. Usually they call me "weird," or the much better sounding "weirdo."
"Exqueeze me," the woman in front of me said, turning around. "Could you not whistle? It's
really annoying, and not quirky at all, if that's what you were thinking."
"Ma'am," I said. "As an American citizen of Canada, I believe that I have every right to whistle.
It's in the constitution."
"No, it's not," she replied.
I was flabbergasted. Why isn't the word "flabbergasted" more popular? It's like what putty
would be if it were a word.
"Hey," said the woman, "are you listening to me? Or are you living in your head?"
"Everyone lives in their head," I said, "and I'm afraid I won't stop whistling, because this is my
only form of entertainment. That, and twiddling my thumbs."
"Well, if you don't shut up, I'll do it for you!" said the woman.
I didn't know what that meant, but it was then, and there that I decided to stop whistling the
Jingle Bell song.
Good Lord, I was bored. The line was going so slow. It appeared that I had to use my
imagination to pass the time. After all, I was a writer, so how hard could it be? I closed one eye, and
kept the other open to begin entertaining myself in my mind's eyes.
"But why keep one eye open?" you ask.
Of course of horse to keep a track of where I was, while waiting to be served. I couldn't very
well close both eyes, otherwise a Russian would come along, and steal my spot.
And so, with one eye closed, I imagined myself floating off above the earth, and visiting a
island paradise in outer space. There was a nice, little house, and a nice little Irish girl, who insisted that
I played a game of Russian roulette.
I told her, "No, thanks. Gambling is against my religion." Then we got into a mixed martial arts
fight, and several minutes later times two, I was back in reality at the front of the line, ready to speak to
the postmaster.
"Are you winking at me?" said the postmaster. "And why are you so wet? Have you not heard
of something called an umbrella? Or a car? Or a weather forecast? Or not going out at all?"
"Sir," said I, "I am not here to be berated." I opened both my eyes now. "I am here to get shit
done."
"Don't swear at me," said the postmaster. "I will hold you by your ankles, and shake you."
"Sorry," I replied. "I forgot I was at the post office. Could you help me deliver some mail?"
"Not a problem," said the postmaster.
We discussed politics for a few minutes, talking about how the world wasn't going to blow up
any time soon, and finally, I got the stamps for my letters, and sent off my letters.
"Best of luck to you," said the postmaster.
I went away from the line, and jumped, and clicked my heels together.

4.
A long, arduous month went by. After chopping some wood, I returned to the shack, where I lived. This
shack was located on my parents' property in the middle of (to quote a wise man) "bum fuck nowhere."
You see, me, and ma, and pa didn't get along too well, but they didn't want me to be homeless on
account of being a shitty writer, so they let me live in their tiny building that used to once hold a rusting
lawnmower.
I missed that lawnmower. We were pretty good friends as kids.
But back into the fray, I went, into my luxurious shack to write. It had all the amenities that
anyone could want: a blow up mattress, a wobbly shelf to hold my books, a chair that was literally a
pain in my ass, a desk for crafting my imaginariums, and a bucket for bucket related activities.
"Well, now," I said, sitting down. "What shall I write about today."
I put my fingers together, and pushed them out to stretch my hands. I began the process of
writing, which mainly consisted of me pulling what little hair I had left on my head, and staring
gormlessly at a blank screen.
"Come on," I told myself. "Put down something, anything!"
As it were, nothing came out of my brain. I was having what they call writer's block. I stared so
long at my computer I thought I was going to put a hole through it. Ah, not really. I never thought that.
I just lied to make myself seem cool. I did that a lot. I was always in this pursuit of trying to be cool,
and fit in. It never worked out though. My desperation smelled as strong as a delicious bowl of curry.
I was feeling stifled now. I got up from my seat, and paced back, and forth with my hands
behind my back. If a stranger looked into my window, they would think right away that I was trying to
solve a crime. Not a murder, I'm not smart enough. Maybe I'd be able to find out who kept stealing
cookies from the cookie jar... It was me! Ah-ha-ha!
Hey, speaking of cookies, did you know that Oreos are vegans? It's the #1 choice in cookies for
vegans. I'm a vegan by the way. Vegans -- we're a small group of strong, and proud people. Most of are
descended from a single ancestor.
His name was Robin O'Bobbins, and he lived off Kale, and potatoes, that is until the potato
famine arrived in Ireland, and he died when a horse, and carriage hit him. It was a gruesome death, yet
he never took to eating a single animal, egg, or slice of cheese.
As I was thinking about nonsense, my hamburger phone began ringing. "Ring! Ring!" it went. I
picked up my hamburger phone, and answer it. I started to choke. It felt like there was no air in my
lungs. It was a voice I had nay heard in a very long time.
"Allison," I said. "D-uhhhh, how are you doing?"
ALLISON WAS THE GIRL I WAS IN LOVE WITH. 15 YEARS. I LOVED HER
UNHEALTHILY IN THE SAME WAY SOMEONE IS ADDICTED TO CRACK, SMACK, AND
WHAT DRUG RHYMES WITH THAT?
"Hey," said Allison in her calm voice. "I was just wondering, if --"
"Yes," I said, "I would like to be your boyfriend, but...actually I don't really know. I mean, you
hurt me, Allison. You broke my heart into a million pieces, and I'm still trying to pick up the parts.
What type of person would I be, if I let you walk back into my life like this? I would pretty much be a
human mat that you wipe your dirt onto. Oh, what the hell! I forgive you, Allison! Meet me at my
shack! I just replaced my dirty old rug. Now it's orange."
There was silence over the phone.
Allison was speechless for a moment, and then she said, "What the hell?"
"Oh, ah, ah, ah," I stammered. "I was just pulling your leg. Was it pulled?"
"You have a weird sense of humor," said Allison. "As I was saying."
"Yes," I said.
Allison continued on. "I know you have some feelings for me."
"It's not obvious is it?" I said.
"That's why," said Allison, "I wanted to do you the courtesy of letting you know that... I'm
getting married."
"Married?" I said. "Oh! Ha-ha! You're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not joking," said Allison.
"So, you called me just for this?" I said.
"I didn't want you to hear it from someone else," said Allison. "You've been there for me in the
past, so I thought I owed you this. Would you have preferred to hear it from another person?"
I started weeping. My soul was crushed. What little spirit I had was dead. My legs were wobbly.
My broken heart went from a million pieces to a billion pieces. I thought that my life couldn't get any
lower, and then it had. This was it. This was the end of me. Allison had finished me off. There was no
going up from here. My mind was in the bottom pit of, and there was a little red devil poking me in my
ass. Sounds humorous, but in reality being poked in the ass would hurt a great deal.
"You're right, Allison," I said. "You're right as rain. It's better this way. But you know, I don't
feel so good now."
"When have you ever felt good?" said Allison.
"Allison," I said. "Allison, Allison." I kept repeating her name. "I'm in great agony. Haven't you
ever been madly crazily in love with someone?"
"I have," said Allison, "and I'm marrying him."
"What if he left you?" I said.
"I would kill myself," said Allison.
I nodded silently as if Allison were there in the room with me.
"Hello?" said Allison. "Is anyone there? Hello? Hello? Did we disconnect? Hellooooooo?"
"I'm here!" I said. "I was just being sad!"
"Whoa, hey, don't get snippy with me," said Allison. "I know this is bad news for you, but I
didn't do anything to you on purpose. You just fell in love with the wrong person."
"I have to go," I told Allison.
"Why?" said Allison.
"I have things to do," I said. "I'm not the loser that you, and the world thinks I am. I'm busy."
"Okay, sorry," said Allison. "Goodbye then."
"Goodbye," I said.
And I hung up the phone. I wiped the tears away from my face, and sat down. I wasn't busy. I
didn't have things to do.

5.

I lost my motivation to write. All this time I spent writing was a complete waste of my time. Years, and
years of intellectual labor, and it amounted to absolutely nothing.
Because you want to know the real reason why I was writing? I was trying to make Allison fall
in love with me. She was a huge bookworm, and I thought I could talk to her through my words.
However, I supposed there were other reasons for pursuing writing, too. Guess I wanted to
prove to the world that it wasn't a waste of time, it wasn't just mental masturbation, and that I was
smart enough to make it. Then there was the part of me that wanted to express myself, not to mention
my obsessive compulsive nature. Writing... I just had to do it.
I got carried away, and obsessed with the craft of writing. Of course, that's what it was -- a craft.
Witchcraft!
No. Not witchcraft. Hold on. I need a dictionary. Gonna look up the word "craft."
(Be back in a second.)
Okay, here it is. Craft: "Derived from the word 'crafty.'"
That's not a very useful definition. Bah, who cares about writing, anyway!
Screw it all! I took my shitty outdated computer, and threw it on the floor, and I jumped on it
several times, smashing it as much as I could. I was done with writing -- and Allison, and my stupid
life!
I had no purpose anymore. I was done as human being. What's the point of just existing? I broke
down, and collapsed. I sobbed more than I had ever sobbed before. I felt completely empty inside.
There was nothing in my heart anymore. I had no heart. My veins were filled with ice, and despair.
I got so angry that I started cursing at God. I don't want to say what I said, but I said enough to
send me to the 5th circle of hell. To be honest it's the best circle of hell, in my opinion. It's literally a
boat ride.

Three hours later: I calmed down a little. But I was still in tortuous agony. I was inconsolable. Y'know,
I didn't want this girl Allison to walk into my life. I didn't want to become obsessed with her, and fall in
love. It just happened. I know she wasn't for me, yet I kept going back for more punishment. That's
what you do when you get hurt, and you're in love; you tell yourself that your endurance for pain
means you love them even more.
No, no, no. I fell in love with the wrong person...and I was angry about it. I'm not going to lie. I
imagined all sorts of dark things happening to Allison. I imagined her getting hurt. Why? I wanted her
to feel my pain, even if only for a moment. Still it made me feel guilty. If you truly care for someone
you won't want them to be harmed. Yeah. I knew this hateful thinking was toxic, and I had to tell
myself to chill the fuck out.
My anger only existed, because I was sad. I was sad, because I had these expectations, and not
having those expectations fulfilled, I became disappointed. But most of all, I was plainly a fool. I laid
on the floor, numb, but somehow still hurting all over.
"Alright," I told myself. "You can either stay here on the floor, continuing your intermittent
sobbing, or you can go out, and do something. Stop being a dipshit."
I got up, and decided to turn on the radio. Perhaps listening to music would change my mood a
little. When the song on the radio came on, it did the very opposite of that. It made it worse. The song
was Dido's "White Flag." It was something about being in love, I think, and not giving up.
But I was giving up. I turned off the radio, and went outside. Today was inexplicably cold. Wait,
no, it wasn't. I lived in Canada. And it was snowing. There was ice around my face from my previous
wet face.
I didn't care. I left my shack, left my parents' property, and walked out onto the street. I then
went to the nearest bus stop, and waited for the bus. Because I wanted to go somewhere. I just didn't
know where. Anywhere. It didn't matter. I wanted to get away for a while.
I sat down on the available bench, and letting out a breath, stared into space. It was a little hard
to do though, since the bus shelter was filled with graffiti, i.e. shitty art. I don't get it. Why does anyone
need to see a wiener depicted on glass? What does that do? Who would enjoy this?
Damn. I was getting annoyed. Screw it. I got up, and stepped out of the bus shelter, and waited
outside with the cold, blowing breeze. My face was turning red, and my teeth were chattering. I held
myself, trying to warm up. My coat was so thin. In my rush to leave, I hadn't dressed properly.
I guess I didn't care. So what if I got frost bitten? Skin be damned.
Then the bus came. I mean to say, it arrived at the bus stop. I waited for the passengers inside to
shuffle out, and then I took my turn, and went in. I gave the bus driver, a glance, and dropped in a bus
token.
The bus driver cleared his throat, and said, "Hold it there."
I turned around to face him.
"The bus token you put into the farebox is old," he said.
"So, what's the problem?" I said.
"We don't accept them anymore," the bus driver explained. "We phased 'em out on account of
piracy."
 "But, but that's all I have," I said.
"Too bad," said the bus driver. "Ass, gas, or grass."
"What about ass gas?" I said.
"Unacceptable!" said the bus driver.
"C'mon," I said. "Can't you let me off this once?"
The bus driver made a fist, and shook at me angrily. He stared at me with the eyes of an irate
seal. "Look 'ere. I don't like doing this. But it's me job. If you don't leave, I'll have to forcibly remove
you."
"You, and what army?" I said.
The bus driver got up from his seat. He was huge. At least 7 feet tall. How the hell did he get so
tall? Steroids? He grabbed me, and lifted me up like I was nothing. Then he made a sound like "HUP!"
and tossed me outside.
My face crashed right into the snow. I didn't think it was possible, but I was even colder than
before. When I got up to my feet, I watched the bus driver, and his bus leave me behind.

6.

I don't want anyone to judge me, but I made the decision to kill myself. Now, for those who understand
the great hangover called long-term depression, they wouldn't question my motives, but there are
people out there who believe those who try to commit suicide are selfish.
That's not the case. There are many reasons for choosing death over life. Sometimes a person
has a straight up mental illness. Other times, their situation is just so shitty that they can no longer stand
the misery. It's like if you're in a burning building, and the flames get so hot, and you jump out of a
window. Is it your fault you jumped? The heat, and black smoke was getting to you.
In my case, this is about my lot in life. It's just not very good. I'm a failure in every measure. I
don't have anything to lean back on. There is nothing to hold me up, or make me say, "Yeah, at least I
have that." I don't have anything. I'm an ugly loser.
Have I even described myself to you? I look like a troll under a bridge. People treat me terribly.
Nobody really wants to associate with me. I'm alone. I don't get called to go out, or invited to fun
parties. They think I'm a hideous weird-o.
I remember when I was high school, this one time, I was walking in the hallway, and one of the
popular girls just stopped, and stared at me for no reason, and started saying I was ugly. Literally for no
reason. This is a 100% true story. Nobody around me went, "Oh, that's awful." Nope. I was left to fend
for myself. I called her a bitch, and moved along.
Okay! I know name calling like that is childish, if perhaps foolish, but it just came off the top
off my head. I didn't really know what to say. What was I going to do? Call her ugly back? She was not
ugly whatsoever.
Anyhoo (Is it annoying when people say "Anyhoo"?) I made up my mind to "leave this earth."
How, was the question? There are so many ways to end it, and not all of them are equally equal. You
can do it many ways. You can cut yourself, jump to the ground from a great height, get inside a close
garage with a car, or get in the way of traffic. None of them sounded easy.
There was also the thought of having a "last meal day." So, it's like this. If you decide to commit
suicide you have a little celebration day before you go. Don't just leave -- leave with a bang! Problem is
I didn't have any money. Or very little of it. How can I have my last meal day? How can I celebrate
before ending it all?

7.

Rob a bank was the solution I came up with. Was it ethical? No, but banks aren't ethical (What financial
company is?) and I had a freely available Halloween mask, and one rusty axe. Since I lived in Canada,
I didn't have a gun. An axe would have to do. The robbery, I figured, would have to be surprising, and
scary. Otherwise, they'd just fold up their arms, and refuse. Or fight me off with a hockey stick.
So, that's what I did. I walked to the local bank, and burst in. Wow. There were so many people,
waiting to be served. I didn't want to be rude, so I took a spot in the back of the line. After several of
waiting on an old couple that were confounded by finance, I snapped.
I pushed people out of my way, and went to the front of a line to confront a bank teller. I held up
my axe, and yelled, "Alright, dirt bag! Give me some money, or I start chopping!"
The bank teller looked at me, and was calm. Way too calm. She folded her arms, and I feared
for the worst, that she might bust out a hockey stick to attack me.
"Well, what're you waiting for?!" I said. "I told you, gimme them ducats! Or I swear by the
moon, and the stars in sky, I'll make this place into a blood bank!"
(Heh. Get it? The bank might become a blood bank, because of my potential violence. Punny,
no? Is that even a pun? Not sure.)
"I'm sorry," said the teller, "but here at Grubby Money Bank, we have a no bullying policy.
You'll have to get back to your spot in line, and ask nicely."
"Is you crazy?" I said. "Can't you see what's going on here? I'm threatening your life! This is a
robbery! I'm robbing you! Now, cooperate or maybe die, depending on my mood, which isn't really that
great right now!"
The teller unfolded her arms.
"Alright," she said, "but what do you want the money for?"
"What do you mean 'what do I want the money for'?" I said. "I'm not taking out a loan. It doesn't
matter why I want the money. All you have to know is that it's for something important."
"Just out of curiosity," said the teller.
I stared at the teller. I realized what she was doing. "You're just stalling me, until the cops get
here, because you already pressed the silent alarm, aren't you?"
"Was it obvious?" said the teller.
"Well, your acting was at least as good as that of an Oscar winner," I said.
"So are you going to murder me?" said the teller, shaking a little.
"Let's see," I said. I winked at her.
"Okay," said the teller. "I'll give you the money. How much do you want?"
"Hmm, I don't know," I said. "Never thought this through. What is the usual amount that robbers
take?"
"$30,000?" said the teller.
"Wow, $30,000," I said. "That's such a huge amount of money."
"Our bank has over $100 billion in assets," said the teller. "$30,000 isn't that much."
"Then I want $50,000," I said, greedily.
"$50,000!" said the teller in disbelief. "What do you think we're made out of? Money?!"
"But you said it wasn't much money," I said.
"We're the bank," said the teller. "We don't have that much cash on hand. All our assets are
stored digitally on computers. It's not even real. To tell you the the truth, this whole financial thing is
kind of a scam."
I banged my axe on the counter, frightening the teller.
"Just give me my money!" I said, losing my patience.
The teller got a bag with a dollar sign on it, and filled it with colorful Canadian money. It
seemed like a lot, but I didn't have time to count.
"Sorry for everything," I said. "But thank you very much. Good bye!"
I took the bag of money, with the dollar sign on it, and ran out of the bank. I ran as fast as I
could, even cutting through traffic, and causing people to honk their horns at me. I tossed my
Halloween/robber mask into the garbage (disposing of evidence), and returned to my shack.

8.

I was back in my shack. I locked the door, and kept the lights off. I went into a corner, and dumped the
money out onto the floor. It was so much money. I couldn't keep count. I actually think the teller from
the bank gave me the $50,000. I was ecstatic. It was the most money I had ever seen in my entire life. I
know that I wasn't, but I felt like a millionaire. Right away, I thought about all the things that I could
buy, then remembered... I would surely be caught.
The plan was to get this money, and quickly blow it, and off myself afterward. Kind of made me
sad. It was ironic. Like winning the lottery, and dying the next day. So, stick to the plan, or not? I guess
I had to, otherwise I'd get into trouble. Ma, and pa would be very ashamed of me, and I'd end up in
prison. Canadian prison!
I know it's probably not as bad as America prison, but prison is prison, and that's where they do
really nasty stuff to you. Stuff that you don't ever want to think about. I couldn't let that happen to me.
Nope. I would take all this money, and just blow it. Have fun, the most fun in my entire life!
I took the money, and stuffed it all into a backpack, and put it on my back. I was to go out, and
spend, spend, spend!
But then as I felt kind of giddy, doubt started creeping into my brain. Suicide? Why suicide? I
remembered I hadn't even checked the mail to see if my query letters were responded to. Oh shit sticks.
In all my excitement, I forgot about that. If I could become a real, legitimate writer, and be published,
I'd have a purpose in life, now wouldn't I? I know Allison broke my heart, but I think I could recover if
I could be an actual writer.
I ran into my parents' house, and went into the kitchen. Ma, and pa weren't home. I looked on
the kitchen table, where they'd leave the mail after picking it up from the community mailbox. I saw
that there were some letters.
I picked up these letters, and went through them. It seemed no letters were for me.
"C'mon," I said. "There's gotte be something. I've been writing for years. Years! They couldn't
ignore me! I have talent!"
Ah-ha! Then I found something. Oh boy, oh boy! There was a letter for me. I grabbed it, and ran
back to my shack to open it.
In my shack, I sat down on my chair, and held the envelope in my hands. It was addressed to me
in neat handwriting, with blue ink. You know, if you get a reply, especially by delivered paper that is a
very good sign. Normally, agents don't respond at all if they don't like what you have. They ignore you
like you're a dirty bum, which I sort of resemble. Sometimes.
"Alright, alright, alright," I said. "Here we go."
I half closed my eyes, and tore open the envelope like an excited kid on Christmas. I took out
the letter inside from one of the agents I had written to.

The letter said this:

"Dear so, and so, writer,

I barely read your letter, but from what little I did read, I thought it was garbage. Absolute rubbish. You
write like a moron. Quit writing, and flip some hamburgers. You should not be contributing to
mankind's culture. You'd better be left dead in a ditch, where you could feed the bugs, or if not that,
then scraping the side of a grimy boat for below minimum wage. Man-alive, what were you thinking?
You weren't thinking? Goodbye, and up yours!
Sincerely,
Faceless Agent"

I was stunned. "Wow," I said. "Wow."

How could anyone be this harsh? Doesn't he know that I'm a human being, with hopes, and
dreams, and a desire to be successful, and happy? I'm not an animal! I am a human being! I have
feelings like anyone else! We writers aren't just worthless bums! Some of us can afford pizza once a
week!
I sighed, and threw the letter down to the floor. Well, it wasn't really thrown as much as it gently
floated down. But there it was. I left it there. I got out of my seat, and put on my backpack with all the
stolen cash from the bank. I was going to use it to go out, and party.

9.

For the first time in my life, I took a taxi cab, and made my way into the city of Toronto. While walking
there on the sidewalk, I noticed that my face was on the news. Well, not my face, but me in my
Halloween mask. It was already happening. The police were looking for me.
As security camera footage showed me robbing that bank I jacked, the news lady was saying:
"If you have any information about this axe-wielding robber, please call 222-Tips, or contact the police.
Any information leading to the arrest of this asshole may qualify you for a handsome reward."
"Oh, Jesus, oh me, oh my," I nervously said to myself. "What if I don't get to spend all my
money, and then they lock me up before I get to follow through with my devious plan?"
I kept my head low, and kept on walking, trying not to be bring attention to myself. Not that
getting attention was ever a problem for me. You know, I'd be lucky if someone gave me the time of
day. One time, I went up to a cute girl, and said "hi" and she got freaked out, and looked at me like she
had seen a ghost. That's a 100% true story. That's how bad I look.
Pretty people just don't know what it's like to be an ugly person. It's tough. You're treated like a
freak. I get no respect. One time, I asked my pa to take me to the zoo, and he said, "Fuck you!" What?
Why would you say that to your own son? I just don't get fathers. They're always at loggerheads with
their boys for some reason.
I think I know what it is. When you have a son, your son is so much like you that when you
watch him growing up, it's like you're watching yourself, and you feel like you've gone back in time,
and you're screaming at yourself, "No! Don't be a moron!" Then it frustrates you because you can't do a
damned thing.
Eh, not my problem now. I was on a mission. So, I continued through Toronto. Man, I don't
know why people say this city is so great. It's like the ugly sister of New York City. It's just blocks of
concrete, vandalism, potholes, weed shops, and hippies.
YOU KNOW WOT, TORONTO SUCKS!
I'd rather be in Dog River. But here I am, so I'll have to make do. I can't really travel around,
because they'll check me out, and I'll be caught.

My first stop is going to be at the zoo. I arrived at the Toronto zoo, amongst a throng of people, and got
in without trouble. Hadn't been to the zoo since I was a kid. I was here because It reminded me of being
a kid. What times those were. Life's always better when you don't have any plans for the future, and
someone else takes care of you. I only wish they cared now. Sucks being an adult. You get past a
certain age, and you're just expected to have it all together. Then again, who actually has it together?
I looked at the colorful map in the front part of the zoo, and tried deciding where to go. See the
tigers? The elephants? The pandas? The bears? The rhinos? The giraffes? So many too choose from.
But in my heart of hearts I knew I had a woody for the elephants. Biggest land animal in the world!
Who could resist?
They were all the way at the end of the zoo, like milk in the back of a supermarket, but
eventually I got there. I stood around at the barriers, where the elephants were supposed to be on
display. I stood for several minutes, waiting for the elephants to come out. Where were they?
I stopped a zoo worker to ask. I noticed she was carrying a large sack of something. Food
maybe?
"Excuse me," I said to the zoo worker. "Do you know where the elephants are?"
"I'm sorry," said the zoo worker, "the elephants aren't on display today."
"But, but... Why not?" I said.
"There was an accident," said the zoo worker. "A new worker was trying to get Bessy to back
up, then Bessy got frightened by someone's laser pointer, and she sat down."
"And?" I said.
The zoo worker cleared her throat. "The new worker got her head stuck in Bessy's arse. We're
trying to get her out right now, but the task is very tricky."
"That sounds awful," I said. "...What's your plan?"
The zoo worker patted her sack.
"We're going to feed her some beans," she explained, "and then we wait for the gas to
accumulate, and ka-freaking-boom!"
"Won't that kill her?" I said.
"We don't know," said the zoo worker.
"How can she breathe with her head stuck up a pachyderm's rectum?" I asked.
"Aren't you curious?" said the zoo worker.
I nodded.
"We managed to slip in a tube," the zoo worker explained. "There was a bit of wiggle room,
believe it or not."
"I can't imagine," I said.
"I have to go," said the zoo worker. "You take care now."
The zoo worker seemed annoyed, and she left. I thought that I should too. With no elephants to
see I found myself disappointed. I turned around, and began walking away. As I got a little down the
walking path, I heard an explosion that made me flinch.
It sounded something like "KERBLOOM!"

10.

I left the zoo, and continued wandering around Toronto. My feets became tired, so I sat down on a
bench that was recently painted. Goddamn it. I got up, and with stained trousers, went elsewhere. I sat
down on the grass.
I was thinking, wracking my brain about what to do next. How could I have fun? As I sat,
contemplating, a woman in fishnet stockings, and glass shoes came up to me,. She was smoking a
cigarette, which she tapped, and the ash blew in the wind, and went into my eyes.
"Ooops, sorry, honey," said the hooker. "I didn't mean to."
I rubbed my eyes for a few seconds till the nasty cigarette ash was gone. I looked up.
"Watch where you're doing that next time," I said.
"Whoa, easy," said the hooker. "I apologized. Didn't I?"
"Why would you ash your cigarette near me?" I said, annoyed.
"I'm looking for a customer," said the hooker.
"A customer for what?" I said. "Look, I don't want to buy any fair trade chocolate."
"What?" said the hooker. "I'm a prostitute. I was looking at you, and thought you could use
some lovin'."
 I stood, and got to my feet. I pointed to the hooker.
"I don't want any lovin' from you!" I said. "I mean, what do you take me for?"
"A virgin," said the hooker.
Wut! How did she know my secret?! You know, I'm not ashamed! I was saving myself for
Allison. And isn't that romantic? I think so. But I guess there's no point now. She's getting married, isn't
she?
"How did you know I was a virgin?" I said. "Is it because of how I look? Someone once told me
that I have the face of a cancer patient's ass. I don't know what that means though."
The hooker laughed at me. "Waaaaaaaaaaaa-ha-ha-ha! You're a virgin! Oh, Jesus! Jesus F.
Christ! I was just joking! Oh, you loser! Loooooooooooooooozzzzzzzzzzzzzer!"
"That's not how you spell 'loser'," I said.
The hooker put her hand on my shoulder.
"Hey, listen!" she said. "I'll do you a favor. I'll take your virginity."
"I can't," I said.
"Why not?" said the hooker. "You don't like punani?"
"Punani?" I repeated. "No, I'm fine with the, um, concept of punani. I just, no offense, hookers,
yuck. Icky. You're a roastie."
"I am not a roastie," said the hooker. "Also, I don't know what a roastie is."
"Why would I bang a hooker?" I said. "That's a good way to get AIDS. Do you know about
AIDS? It's kind of a shitty disease."
"I know," said the hooker. "Not personally, but I've heard. Charlie Sheen has AIDS. He says it's
reduced the amount of women that have sex with. Yes, they still have sex with him."
"Gross! Gross!" I said. "You know, I came out to Toronto to recreate the experiences of Holden
Caulfield, but this I can't deal with! The idea of sleeping with a hooker... BLARG."
But then again a thought passed into my mind. I was going to off myself. I mean, is dying as a
virgin actually a good thing? I supposed it wasn't.
"So, I guess that's a 'no,'?" said the hooker.
"No," I said. "I mean, yes. I will, umm, you know, give it a whirl."
"Now you're speaking my language," said the hooker. "You do have money, right? It's $200 an
hour."
"I have the money," I said. "I just robbed bank."

11.

Me, and the feisty hooker gathered together in a dirty hotel room. The carpet had stains. The bed had
stains. The walls had stains. And I'm pretty sure the air had stains. It was disgusting, but I chose this
spot because it was pretty much deserted.
"Alright," said the hooker, "is this where we're gonna bang it out?"
"I thought you called it 'love making'," I said.
"Ha!" said the hooker. "This is the most opposite thing to love making. A dry handshake is more
love making than this. We are banging it out, that's what."
"Damn, stop being such a phony," I said. "I can't get a read on you. It's making me nervous."
"The first time for anything's always nerve wracking," said the hooker. "I remember the first
time I had sex when I was 42 years old."
"Wait a minute," I said, "you look to be in your 40s already."
"Yeah, I know," said the hooker, "I started this business last year. Fell on hard times."
"What happened?" I asked with concern.
"I have a gambling addiction," said the hooker. "Gambling is addictive. It can ruin a person."
"I don't believe that," I replied.
 "Wanna be on that?" said the hooker.
"No," I said. "C'mon. Let's just get this over with, huh?"
And the hooker went onto the bed, and took off all her clothes. I noticed she actually had a
wiener. I thought she was a little masculine looking. Not that I'm judging anyone. I'm very pro
transgendered, I just don't think my hole could handle what she wanted to do to me.
"Excuse me," I said, "but are you, uh, transgendered?"
"Wasn't that obvious?" said the hooker.
"No," I said. "You look like a woman. You are a woman. Except you have that, erm, thing."
The hooker motioned her wiener side to side.
"Oh, this," she said. "Yeah, I can't afford to get the surgery. This isn't a problem for you, is it?"
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm having second thoughts."
"Don't go all transphobic on me," said the hooker. "I'm just as woman as anyone else. I can rock
your world."
I took a step back. "No, it's not that. I, uh, I don't know what I'm doing here. You know. Maybe
this isn't the right thing to do."
The hooker crawled towards me, on all fours. "I won't take 'no' for an answer."
"That's rape," I said.
The hooker stopped. "Oh, yeah."
I took out some money, a couple hundred bucks, and put it down. "Here. This is for you. For
your troubles. I'm going now."
The hooker scooped up the money, and "seductively" spread it on her boobs. "Are you sure?
You don't know what you're missing out on. Have you ever tried out the Celine Dione?"
"What's the Celien Dione?" I asked.
The hooker came up to me, and whispered the answer into my ear.
"Wowzers!" I said. "That sounds really messy! No, thanks!"

12.

I began the eating of my last meal. Actually, normally I'm a vegan, but this being my last day in
Canada, or anywhere for that matter, I decided to let go. The animals die, I die, it all balances out.
When I am put into the depths of the earth the creatures will crawl upon my body, and eat me as I have
eaten them. We all meet the same fate, eventually.
So, I dug in. I sat at the table in the food court, and ate like a pig. I had whatever I could get my
hands on: Pizza, sushi, fried chicken, cake, ice cream, hamburgers, waffles, etc. I went mad on the
junk. Who cared about being healthy? I was going to be gone, anyway.
Then as I was pigging out a beautiful girl stopped, and looked at me in disgust.
"Holy Christ on a cross," she said. "You're going to eat all of that?"
"It's my last meal," I explained.
"But think about your health," said the beautiful girl.
I don't think she heard me the first time.
"THIS IS MY LEAST MEAL," I said.
"Why's it your last meal?" said the beautiful girl. "Oh, you're going to go on a diet later on. I
see. Okay then."
"No," I explained. "I'm going to..." I started to get choked up a little. Thinking about my death
scared me. But I didn't feel like I had any purpose on this earth. I was nothing. Nobody cared for me. I
had no hope. I was like a small bug or insect. I was just inconsequential. I didn't matter.
"Are you okay?" said the beautiful girl. "Are you choking on food? Or are you getting choked
up? I can't tell. You have so much blubber around your face."
I slammed my fist down on my table. "I'm not a whale! I'm a human being!"
 "Relax," said the beautiful girl. "You ought to be more jolly."
"Never mind," I said. "I'm going. Suddenly, I no longer have an appetite."
I got up, and started walking away. My last meal was ruined.

13.

I was feeling sad. I usually felt sad, but, no, today was really different. I was getting extra depressed,
because I knew my suicide would mean I would never get to see Allison anymore. I would be gone,
forever.... Forever ever.
I know that Allison stringed me along, and broke my heart, and she made me cry a thousand
times, but I still loved her more than anyone else in the world. I always tried to get her out of my mind,
but I was too weak. I kept crawling back to her.
It's painful being this foolishly in love. You are naive. You are an idiot. You chest is open, and
your insides are exposed. You hang onto an edge with your ten fingers, thinking you'll get to climb
back up. Then that doesn't happen. But you get a good view, because you see this person you love so
much going from person to person, giving their love, and physical affections to (seemingly) everyone,
except you. It eats you up inside. It kills you. It makes you want to jump off a building, though
somehow you endure. Today I would endure a little longer, just to see Allison.
Her marriage be damned. I wanted to pay her a visit. So, I did exactly that. I went to the ritzy
part of Toronto, and went to her luxurious condominium building. It was all shiny, and big. There was a
pool on the roof. Every luxurious building required a pool on the roof. No roof pool, no luxury.
"Alright," I told myself, "this is the last time you'll see Allison. The non-love of your life. Make
it a good one."
I went inside the building, and had to meet the security team. Two big black dudes, twins, I
think, named Rob, and Bob. Not that the color of their skin mattered. I just had never seen black twins
before. Is that weird?
"Yo, yo, yo!" said Rob. "Whazzaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap!"
"Ummm, not much," I said.
"I'm Bob," said Bob. He pointed to his brother Rob. "And this is Rob. We run the security here."
"I know," I said. "Can I get through?"
"State your business very much please," said Rob.
"I'd like to visit my friend Allison," I said.
"That's just a first name," said Bob. "You'll have to be more specific."
"Well," I said. "She's blonde, and has hazelnut brown eyes. She's very beautiful. You can't miss
her."
"Oh, that sexy white girl," said Rob. "Yeah, we all know here. We all know her very well."
"The hell is that supposed to mean?" I said.
"Nothing," said Bob. "She's just friendly. And sexy."
"Y-yeah, I guess she is," I said. "So, can I see her?"
"That depends," said Rob. "Who the hell is you?"
"I'm a friend of Allison," I said.
"Alright, we'll need to see some ID," said Bob.
I didn't have an ID. All my shit expired. Do you think they would understand? I guess I'll just
give them a bribe. I put $500 onto the counter.
"Here you go," I said.
Bob, and Rob took the money.
"Thanks," said Rob. "now where's your ID?"
"What!" i said. "I don't have my ID! I was bribing you! You can't take bribe money like that,
and not deliver!"
 "Are you crazy?" said Bob. "You could be a stalker-murderer-rapist-kidnapper. Why would we
let you through without proper ID? You know, 9/10 people that get kidnapped are pretty white girls,
right?"
"Ooooh, boy," said Rob. "I would not want to be a pretty white girl."
"So, you're not going to let me in to see Allison?" I said.
"Nope," said Bob. "Get da fuck out."
"I'm not leaving," I said, "until I get to see Allison."

Rob, and Bob threw me out of the condo, and threatened to call the cops, if I didn't hit the road. I
obliged, and got to my feet with a slightly sore ass.
At that moment, Allison, and her husband-to-be appeared. Allison stopped, and looked at me
like a deer caught in the headlights.
"Whoa, hey, what're you doing here?" she said.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your husband?" I said.
"I know who you are," said Liam, "and I'm not very pleased."
"C'mon!" I suddenly shouted at Allison. "Why are you marrying Liam?! I don't get it! What the
hell do you see in him?!?"
I waved my arms as if I were mad (mad as in crazy).
"Okay," I said, referring to Liam, "sure, he's handsome. And sure he's a doctor. And sure he can
tell jokes, and he can dance, and sing, and shit like that. But does he really, really, really, really, really
love you? Like I do? Allison, I would die for you. I would give up my life for you. Would Liam do
that?"
Allison turned her head, and looked at Liam. Liam didn't seem too keen on the idea of dying,
even if it was be wife. And you could see it in his face, but of course was he going to deny that? Of
course not. You don't get into a wonderful relationship with a pretty woman by being honest. Actually,
it seems this notion applies to all corners of life. Every modicum of success requires some lying, and
deceit.
"Hells yeah!" said Liam. "I would die for Allison in a heartbeat! I would lie down in the middle
of a road, and let an SUV with spiked wheels run over my face!"
"Awwww," said Allison. "That's so romantic."
"He's lying," I said. "He doens't mean that."
Allison slapped me on the shoulder. "Don't you accuse my hubby of lying! He's not lying! Why
would he lie? What reason would he have to lie?"
"To fuck you," I said in a matter of fact tone.
Allison's face went red. She was furious, absolutely furious. I even flinched, thinking she was
going to sock me right in my fragile jaw. But she didn't. She just made a shrill noise that sounded
something like "REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" and then she started yelling at me, and
dressing me down.
"See!" said Allison with a snarl. "This is why no one loves you! You think it's because you're
ugly, and poor, but guess what you're dumber than a bag of hammers! You're not just a weird-o, you're
crass, cruel, and crude! When we saw that movie 'Titanic' for the first time, you told me that Kate
Winslet was a fat, greedy pig, who didn't want to share her door! For godsakes! 'Titanic' is the most
romantic movie of all time, and all your thoughts amounted to was: 'They should've waited for the
airplane to be invented'! I mean, good God! First of all, the airplane was invented in 1903, and second,
the first commercial airline flight happened in the year 1914! Did you expect them to wait two years?!
Ridiculous! Ridiculousssssssssssssss!"
Amid this calamity, I became extremely emotional, and said something that I quickly came to
regret. Yet I did it anyway, and the repercussions were not something I was able to deal with.
"Well!" I said to Allison. "At least, I'm not a whore! You!" I pointed. "You are a filthy whore!
The nickname for your vagina is the Grand Canyon!"
Allison gasped, and looked to be in shock. I waited in silence for her to retaliate, and then she
just started crying. But not a loud, child-like cry. A soft, gentle cry. One that you do when someone you
kinda care about hits a nerve... I felt so bad. I felt so guilty. I've never made her cry before.
Liam glared at me with his perfect face. "You son of a bitch."
"I'm sorry, Allison," I said. "I don't know what I was thinking."
"You weren't thinking," said Liam. "You're retarded."
"I'm not retarded," I said.
Liam gave me a shove.
"Get up on out of here," he told me.
"I'm can't leave," I said. "I know how to comfort Allison when she cries."
Liam was increasingly getting angry. "What does that even mean?"
"Before you came along," I said, "I was Allison's shoulder to cry on. She came to me to be
comforted. I was her cuddle buddy."
"You are such a beta," said Liam. "You cuck!"
"I'm not a cuck!" I said.
I shoved Liam like he had shoved me. Then Liam pulled back his fist, and punched me square
in the nose. I reeled back, and fell down to the ground.
Allison looked at me with blood dripping down my face. She wanted to say something, I could
tell, but had no words.
So, I got to my feet, and faced Liam. I returned him a punch, and then we got into a full out
fight. We hatefully exchanged swings, and traded blows. But I couldn't hold my own, and I was quickly
coming out the loser.
In the battle, there was a point where I lost my balance, and fell down. Liam went in for the
finishing move, and he stomped my face in. Allison tried pulling away to no avail. He did exactly what
he wanted to do to me me.
I groaned, and I moaned. I was in such pain, and agony, I could feel the cracks on my bones.
My skull became slightly concave. I couldn't stay awake. I lost consciousness.

14.

But I wasn't dead. And I wasn't awake. I was in some sort of realm in between both, where I was
neither, and I felt my spirit floating, separating from my body. Then I was painfully pulled back in, and
for some reason a flood of memories returned to me.
Though these were not normal memories. These memories were from another time, and place.
These were memories of a past life, before modern times, and they felt like they were alive, and
actually happening.

I opened my eyes, and found I was in England in the 1600s. I was at the bay, where there was a large
wooden ship. I looked into the waters, and noticed my reflection. I was dressed as a puritan, in black
clothes, with a most ridiculous hat. But most peculiar -- I was handsome. I was slim, and toned, and I
had short, wavy, dark brown hair.
"What's going on?" I said to myself.
"Are you alright?" said a voice.
I turned around, and saw Allison. A version of Allison, anyway. She was also dressed like a
Puritan. She came up to me, and put her arm around mine.
"Come now," said Allison. "We have to leave."
"Leave?" I said. "With you?"
"You're so silly," said Allison. "But that's why I love you."
 My face turned red. There were butterflies in my stomach. She loved me. What world were we
in exactly? For the first time in a very long time I felt...happy. Sounds so strange saying that.
"No time to waste," said Allison. "We must get onto the ship."
So, Allison led me along, and indeed we went into the large wooden ship.

Many days on the ship went by. I was getting sick of being here, with all these people. I really meant
that; I was literally sick. I couldn't handle the waves, and storms. It put my belly into a knot. Allison,
however, seemed to take it all in stride. She wasn't bothered whatsoever. She just held me tightly,
making sure I was doing okay as I tried holding down the contents of my stomach.
"Are you going to be okay?" said Allison in a sweet, caring voice.
"I don't know," I said. "I'm sorry, but I don't like this. I don't like the water. Surely, there must be
a better way to travel."
"What other way is there to travel?" said Allison.
"Not too sure," I said. "Through the air. Like a bird?"
Allison laughed the most beautiful laugh.
"Oh, what a fantasy," she said with a smile. "There's no such thing. How would that even be
possible?"
"Ah-ha," I said. "I suppose you're right. Flying. It's just a fantasy, isn't it?"
"Mhmm," said Allison, giggling.
"Allison, my dear, you're always so healthy, and in high spirits," I said. "May I ask: Why is
that?"
"Because I am with you," said Allison. "What more does a lady need for health, and happiness?"
"You are too good for me," I said.
"No one's too good for you," Allison replied.

After 66 days of being through the roughest seas, and oceans, finally, we reached the Americas. Here
we puritans could escape the Church of England, and its woeful religious persecutions.
Alas, was it worth it? Many men, and women, and children had died on the voyage. I was afraid
of what laid ahead of us. Me, and Alice warily got our feet onto land, and we smelled the fresh air. It
was a relief to have soil under our feet.
The New World would mean new lives for us, and that was exactly what it is. We quickly
settled in, and established a simple life, living in our wooden homes, and working the land to grow
food. It was a happy life. We were prosperous, and lived in a quaint town, with all the others in relative
peace, and harmony.
I say relative peace, and harmony because once in a while people would be locked up in the
pillories. The heathens, the absolute heathens! I enjoyed throwing rotting tomatoes at their faces! I just
hoped they wouldn't hold grudges against my mischievous behavior.

Today was a quiet day. It was our day of rest. Along with some other townsfolk, we went to the shore to
relax for food, and drink of the non-alcoholic type. Allison's family came along, and we ate merrily.
Allison was especially pleased, as I had brought her sliced apricots. It was her favorite fruit. She
was a silly girl, and laid across my lap while she ate. I could only laugh at her behavior.
"Allison, my dear," I said, "would it not be comfortable sitting in an otherwise position?"
Allison grinned. "As long as I am with you, I shall always be comfortable."
And so, I let Allison continue eating nectarines in the way that she did. But then Allison's father,
Credence, cleared his throat getting her attention.
"Yes, father?" she said.
"I must speak to you in private," said Credence. "May we go?"
Allison looked at me, and then back to her father, Credence. She got up, and the two left for
somewhere else. They stood in the distance behind a tree. They conversed with each other. It seemed
serious. I heard Allison suddenly scream, and cry. Credence's tone was authoritative, and insistent
against her.
Sweat formed on my forehead as I worried. What were they discussing?

15.

The next day came. At my table, Allison served me a spot of tea, two boiled eggs, and bread with
clotted cream on top.
"Enjoy your breakfast," said Allison. She turned around to leave.
"Wait a moment," I said.
Allison turned back to my direction.
"I wanted to ask you something last night," I said, "but you seemed rather stressed out."
"Was I?" said Allison.
"You did not even sleep," I said.
"Oh, I do that all the time," Allison insisted. "It means nothing."
"Allison, you can be honest with me," I said.
"Ah, yes, I am," said Allison.
"Allison," I said. "Tell me. What did you, and your father discuss behind those trees?"
Allison looked worried, even more worried than I was the other day.
"I'm afraid it is bad news," said Allison.
"How bad?" I asked.
Allison took a seat. She held my hands.
"Father, and I," she said, "spoke of my life."
"Your life?" I said. "What of it?"
Allison was hesitant.
"Out with it," I insisted.
"Father," said Allison, "has found me a new partner."
My eyes went wide. "A new partner? Whatever for? We are together, are we not?"
"My love, do not be angry," said Allison. "It was only a discussion."
"What are the details of this discussion?" I asked.
"Father says that you are poor," Allison explained. "He insisted I marry Minister Cain. Minister
Cain is rich. His fields are the most prosperous in all our town. He has a veritable empire of dirt. His
home has three stories."
"Who needs for three stories?" I said. "It only amounts to more traveling."
"But," said Allison, "you know that I cannot disobey my father. I am under his arm. If he
continues insisting then I must obey."
"Do not be angry at me Allison," I said, "but I am not so fond of your father. Credence."
"It isn't only my father," said Allison. "Mother has pushed for this as well. She says that this is a
good opportunity for me to move up into society."
"So then," I said, "your family entire do not want me to be with you?"
"I'm afraid it is so," said Allison. "But do not worry. I will not let this happen to us. We belong
together. We are one, and the same."

Allison left me. In the middle of the night, Minister Cain came to collect her. She did not want to go,
but her father Credence had laid down his command. Cain pulled on Allison, but Allison was reluctant
to leave.
"Come along," said Minister Cain with a very mean old face. "I will provide you very good
things. Don't think this is where your future is."
 "I don't want to go," said Allison.
"You have no choice," said Cain. "We have decided for you."
Cain forced Allison into his horse, and carriage, and then they began taking off under the
moonlight.
Allison called for my name, and when I heard her I awoke, and came out as fast as I could. I
saw Allison slowly disappearing into the darkness.
"Allison!" I said. "Wait! Allison! ALLISON!"
I ran after them. Allison stuck her hand out of the carriage. I grabbed onto it, and tried holding
on, but we were prized apart, and I fell to the ground. When I lifted my head up, she was gone. Cain's
horse, and carriage took her away.

16.

It didn't matter that Allison was married to Minister Cain. We would meet in secret. We wouldn't let
anyone keep us apart, even if it was considered dishonest. Our meetings were short, but we loved each
other just the same as before.
Today, Minister Cain was out doing errands for church. So, on that, I paid Allison a visit.
Allison was not allowed to leave her home on account of being punished for some type of
transgression. If she left, then the townsfolk would see her, and report her.
We went up to the third floor, and entered a plain room with a table.
"Allison," I said, "I've missed you so much. I love you. I love you more than anything in the
world."
"And I you," said Allison.
Allison, and I embraced each other, and, with a great passion, we began kissing. We became
carried away, and I took Allison, and laid her down on the table. Through a small hole in her dress the
two of us made love.
But not for long. While we were distracted we hadn't noticed that Minister Cain had returned,
and he caught us in the act.
"What is going on here!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.
I got off Allison, and we both stood up.
"Minister C-c-cain," she stammered.
Minister Cain came up to me, and slapped me in the face, so hard that I fell onto my bottom.
Allison looked at me with a great worry in her eyes.
"As for you..." said Minister Cain. "I would like to have a word with you. By the window."
"O-okay," said Allison.
As I watched, frozen in shock, Minister Cain, and Allison went to the window.
"Allison," Minister Cain said in a gentle voice. "I have known for a long time that you did not
have feelings for me, but in being with you I hoped you would, with time, grow to love me."
"I'm s-s-s-sorry," said Allison.
"Shhh, shhh," said Minister Cain, putting his wrinkly finger over Allison's mouth. "Say no
more. With God, all problems can be solved. We will get through this, will we not?"
Allison slowly nodded.
"Good," said Minister Cain. "I am glad we've come to an understanding."
And Minister Cain grabbed Allison, and defenestrated her. Her threw her out the window, and
with a thud she landed on the hard ground below.
I shrieked, "Allison!"
I got to my feet, and ran to the window, and looked outside. Allison was lifeless, curled in a ball.
I knew then, and there she was gone. She wouldn't be coming back. I cried for her loss.
17.

There was nothing I could do about Allison's death. There would be no justice. Minister Cain was too
powerful, and too much of an influence in the community. He could weave a clever story, and have me
hung. I didn't know what to do.
Take revenge? Kill him in return? No. I knew whose fault this was. It was mine, and mine
alone. Allison was married to Cain, and I tempted her like the snake in the story of Adam and Eve. The
only person deserving of punishment was me.
So, alone in the darkness, in my home, I took a knife, and slit my wrist. The blood flowed out,
and in a matter of seconds I died.

18.

I woke up in a hospital bed. A modern hospital bed. Allison was looking down at me. I was back in the
present.
"You're awake!" she exclaimed.
"Allison," I said in a hoarse voice. "What are you doing here?"
"To see if you're okay," said Allison.
"I know why you're here," I said.
"What?" said Allison.
"You don't want your husband to get trouble," I said.
"Well..." said Allison. "Yeah.... But! I really do hope your health recovers. I sincerely mean
that."
"Remember when I said I'd die for you?" I told Allison. "I guess this is kind of like that. Sure,
I'd like to see Liam get what he deserves, but I know that will make you unhappy, and I don't want you
to be unhappy. Your happiness is more important than mine."
Allison stared.
"That means," I said, "I won't be pressing charges. I'm gonna tell the cops that it was just some
random guy. Don't worry, Allison. You'll get to marry Liam. No one's going to be locked up. Your life
will be perfect."
"My life isn't perfect," said Allison.
"It's not too bad though, is it?" I said.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Allison.
"Allison," I said.
"Yeah?" said Allison.
"Since we won't ever be seeing each other again," I said. "Can I have one last hug?" I coughed
with a bit of a laugh. "Strictly platonic of course."
"Sure," said Allison.
As Allison reached her arms out to hug me, I started feeling light headed. There were stars in
my vision, and the walls start closing in on me. Everything went dark.
Yet I could still hear Allison's voice. She was crying, and screaming. I heard her walk out into
the hallway, and call for a nurse.
"NURSE! NURSE!" she yelled.

19.

I had memories of another past life. I entered them as one would enter a dream, or perhaps virtual
reality. I found myself back in England, living in the Country of York. But this time the era was
different. Much, much different.
 It was the year 1915. The country was entrenched in the Great War, or as we know it today
World War 1. Fortunately, for me, I was not involved. I had not been called to duty, or forced in via
conscription. Instead I found myself manning a position in the local haberdashery alongside my dear
Allison. We sold sewing supplies, and fabrics, much like Canada's Fabricland.
Allison I noticed looked different than she used to. She was a little meatier, and had long,
almost curly, auburn colored hair. I liked it a lot.
"What a boring day it is today," Allison remarked. "We haven't had a single customer."
"We are going through somewhat turbulent times," I said. "Everyone's too busy for this sort of
thing."
"What if we have to close up shop?" said Allison. "I don't think we'll be able to pay this month's
rent."
I put my arm around Allison.
"Fear not," I told her. "Even though you might not think it, we are blessed. You'll see. Things
will turn around for us."
The next moment the front door opened. A customer came in. He looked around quickly, as if he
wasn't interested at all, and then went right up to Allison.
"Hello, love," said the customer. "How do you do?"
"Elmer?" said Allison. "What brings you here?"
"Ay, just had me some extra time," said Elmer. "Thought I'd come by to see yah."
"If you're not a customer, you'll have to leave," I said.
"Snippy this one," said Elmer, pointing to me in a smug manner.
"It's rude to point," I said.
"And who are you to tell me what I can, and can't do?" said Elmer.
"I am Allison's husband," I said.
"Oooh," said Elmer, looking at Allison. "Didn't know yah were married. Heh. I'll be on my way
now. I hope I didn't come off as a boor."
"It's fine," said Allison.
"Good day to you both," said Elmer.
Then he left.
"What an arsehole," I said.
"Oh, don't fuss," said Allison. "He's from church."
"I don't care," I said. "I think he's an arsehole. What sort of man has the time to go to a shop just
to flirt with a lady?"
Allison put her hands on my back, and gently rubbed it. This was how she liked to calm me
down.
"He's not an arsehole," she said with a grin. "He's... He's a good egg."
"A good egg?" I said.
"Yes," said Allison. "You know, good for, um, baking, and so on."
There was a moment of silence between me, and Allison, and then we both burst out in laughter.
I don't know why I found that so funny.

The work day finished. Allison, and I walked home. Our home was small but quaint, and most of all
chilly.
"I'll make a fire," said Allison.
Allison placed coals in the fireplace, and made a fire. She also put on a pot to heat some water.
When the water boiled up we had tea around the table.
"Is it good?" said Allison.
"Best tea on the planet," I said.
Allison smiled. I noticed she had soot on her face. It almost looked like she had freckles. I got
up, and retrieved a rag. I dampened it, and used it on Allison's cheeks, and cleaned her face.
"There," I said, "just like new."
"Thank you very much," said Allison.
We supped on our tea, and smiled at each other in silence. We were comfortable enough in our
relationship that we didn't need to say anything. We could just enjoy ourselves without any noise. Not
that I thought that what Allison would say would be any type of noise.
When night came, which was not too far off, Allison, and I (of course) went to bed. But we did
not go to sleep right away. You see, I was a budding writer, and I'd read Allison my short stories before
nodding off. Tonight, I read Allison my story called: "The Two Love Birds."
It was about two birds in love: A boy bird, and a girl bird. While they were flying through the
forest the boy bird was captured -- kidnapped, taken away to be kept in a cage as a mere pet. The girl
bird then went to his rescue. Nothing too complicated.
"Another delightful story," Allison said with a little clap.
"Thank you," I said. "Maybe one day I could be published. Do you think that's possible?"
"Anything is possible," said Allison.
I put away my papers, and laid in bed with Allison. We kept close to one another for warmth.
"Ah, what a lovely life we have, don't we?" I said.
"Maybe," said Allison.
"Maybe?" I said. "And what does this mean?"
"You know that we're having problems," said Allison. "Money problems."
"We'll get through it," I said. "God is watching over us."
"That may be," said Allison, "but not much of our situation has changed. I would like to start a
family soon."
"I do too," I said.
"Not as much as I," said Allison. "You know how I feel about this. I've been dreaming about
having a family for years. Yet each time we delay it, because we don't have enough money. I can't stand
it."
Allison was getting emotional. She started crying. I turned to her, and wiped her tears.
"Come now," I said. "I promise I will take care of the both of us. Or the three, or four of us,
depending on how fertile you are."
Allison gawped at me, and then laughed at my stupidity.
"You always know what to say," she told me.

20.

The morning came. Allison was feeling under the weather, so I decided to go to the haberdashery alone.
We didn't really need two people there, after all business was a little lagging. So, I walked with an
umbrella, whistling on my way.
As I was walking down the cobblestone path, amid the drizzle, I noticed a cake shop. There was
a chubby, little, Irish girl, with striking blue eyes, waving to me.
"Hello, sir," said Aoife. "Top of the mornin' to yah -- whatever that means!"
"Hi," I said, stopping. "How do you do?"
"Very fine," said Aoife. "Thank ye fer askin', sir. Would you be havin' a hankerin' fer some
cakes this day?"
"Hmmm, I really shouldn't," I said.
"Oh, these are teh bess' cakes you'll ever had," said Aoife. "Made with real cream, and real
ingredients. Not a fakery in the lot."
"Thank you for the offer," I said.
"So, ye'll be havin' some of me cakes?" said Aoife.
 "No," I said. "I can't afford it."
"But teh first slice is for free," said Aoife with a wink. "Only the second one'll cost yeh."
"Free?" I said. "That sounds like a good price. Alright, I'll come in for a slice."
Aoife opened the door to her cake shop, and led me in. Right away I noticed the absurd amount
of cats crawling around the place. It was a rainbow of cats.
"Humm, why are there so many cats in here?" I said.
"Don't be mindin' them," said Aoife. "They keep me company, and they catch vermin while
they're at it."
"Yes," I said. "Very well."
Aoife then went behind the display of cakes. She removed a puffy gray cat walking on top of it,
and then spread out her arms to show off all her delicious goods.
"Welcome to my cake shop!" said Aoife. "Here be my cake creations in all their magnificent
glory. The best cakes in teh world."
"Wow, there's so many to choose from," I said. "They're so...beautiful!"
"It's not just about teh tastes," said Aoife. "How it looks is also important 'cause it makes your
mind in the mood."
I licked my lips.
"Please, make yer selection," said Aoife.
I scanned the cake display with my eyes, and pointed at a green cake.
"How about that one?" I said.
"Excellet choice, good sir," said Aoife. "How many slices will you be takin' or will you have the
whole t'ing?"
Aoife looked at me with hope in her eyes, hoping to make a sale.
"I suppose my wife might want some, too," I said. "Yes, I'll have the whole cake. Box it up for
me, please."
Aoife got the green cake, and put it in a box, and tied it up with a blue ribbon.
"There you go," said Aoife. "Enjoy, and come back soon!"
I took my cake, and as I was about to leave a lithe looking lady came into the shop, and came up
to me.
"Oi!" said Minnie. "What are you doing here?"
"Ummm, cake, I suppose," I said.
"An able bodied man like you," said Minnie. "You should be off in the war, fighting for the
glory of the empire."
"What are you talking about?" I said.
"The Great War," said Minnie. "Why aren't you a part of it? Why, here you are getting puddings,
like a fatty, while other braver men are fighting for your freedom on your behalf. You're only here
because of them."
"Excuse me," said Aoife. "But it would please me if yeh didn't bother me very good customer."
"Shut your gob!" said Minnie. "I'm trying to have a conversation here! Ugh, the rudeness!"
Minnie turned her eyes back toward me.
"As I was saying," she said.
"Something about the war," I replied.
Minnie went into her pocket, and retrieved a white feather. She gave it to me.
"Here," said Minnie. "This is for you."
"A white feather?" I said. "Why would you give me a white feather?"
"Because you're a coward!" said Minnie. "The white feather is a gift for all the cowards, who
won't go off to fight in the Great War!"
"If you think the war is so great," I said in an irritated tone, "why don't you go, and fight
yourself? How about that?"
 "Because I'm a woman," said Minnie. "They won't allow it."
"Oh, what a convenient excuse," I said. "Not man enough to fight in a war, eh?"
"How dare you," said Minnie. "I should --"
As Minnie tried to finish her thought the puffy gray cat surprised her, and leapt right onto her
face. She started screaming, and twirling around. Aoife went to the scene, and tried prying off the
feline.
"Come now, Miss Puff!" said Aoife to the cat. "You shouldn't attack anyone, no matter how rude
they might be!"
I decided it was time to leave the cake shop.
"Thank you very much for the cake," I said to Aoife. "You were an absolute delight!"

21.

After getting my time in at the haberdashery, I returned home to Allison. Allison was laying in bed. She
didn't look great, but she looked a little better. She called my name.
"My dear love," I said, "how are you doing?"
"You tell me," said Allison.
"Under rain, or sunshine," I said, "you always appear beautiful to me."
"Where were you?" said Allison.
"At work," I said. "Oh, and when you're feeling less poorly, I have some cake for you. I
should've bought it at the end of the day rather than the morning, but I think it's still good to consume."
"Cake?" said Allison. "Where did you get cake from?"
"You know that cobblestone path we always walk down?" I said. "The cake lady was outside,
and sold me on a cake."
"Oh, no," said Allison. "I don't like her."
"What? Why not?" I said.
"She likes you," said Allison.
"Is that a surprise?" I said.
Allison coughed. "No, I mean to say that she finds you attractive. She has her eye on you."
"How do you know this?" I said.
Allison coughed more. "While we were together once, I overheard her speaking about you. She
said you're the most handsome man in town. I don't disagree, but I don't like her thinking that. She must
play with you in her imagination."
"No, noooo," I said. "That isn't true. It can't be true."
"Throw the cake out," said Allison.
"But it's a waste," I said.
"Give it to the wild dogs outside," said Allison. "They will enjoy it."
I sighed, but knew Allison was sick, and for her health I didn't want to make her agitated.
"Yes, dear," I said. "I'll do just that."
So, I stepped outside for a moment, and put the cake on the floor. Immediately the wild dogs
came, and began eating it in great delight.
I returned to Allison to see how she was doing. I placed a warm, damp rag on her forehead to
soothe her.
"Thank you," said Allison.
I sat beside Allison, but kept a little bit of distance, because I was afraid of becoming ill myself.
"Allison," I said.
"Yes," said Allison.
"Allison," I said, "do you still want to have a family?"
"Not now," said Allison.
 "I mean to say in the nearby future," I said. "Not at this precise moment."
"Oh, yes," said Allison. "Very, very much. It would be the most wonderful thing in the world, to
have bundles of joy. I've always wanted a family of my own... Alas, we don't have the means to do so."
"We will," I said. "We will. I promise you that."
"How?" said Allison. "How?"
"I'm going to fight in the Great War," I said. "I will earn us enough money, and I will earn the
respect of our countrymen. How do you think about that?"
"Yes," said Allison. "That is a grand idea."
"It is?" I said.
I didn't really want to go to war. I wanted the money, sure, but I was afraid. I'd seen a soldier
who returned home, and he was missing two fingers on his hand. Which hand, I forgot.
"You are too good, my husband," said Allison. "That you would make this sacrifice for our
future family means so much."
"Ah, yes," I said. "Of course. I'd do anything for you. For us."

22.

The next day, I found myself in a train. All the soldiers to be were there, saying goodbye to their loved
ones as we were preparing to head off for the Great War. I could hear the locomotive powering up, and
making its noise.
I was leaning out my window, saying my last words before leaving to Allison. Allison looked so
beautiful in her elegant dress, and she was tenderly holding onto my hand.
"Goodbye, Allison," I said. "Take care of yourself."
"But I'm scared," said Allison.
"There's need to be afraid," I said. "Everything will work out fine."
"Promise me," said Allison.
"Promise what?" I asked.
"Promise me, you'll come back," said Allison.
The train started moving. Allison ran alongside, still holding my hand. There were tears in her
eyes.
"Promise me!" said Allison.
"I promise you," I said. "As long as I am on God's green earth, we will always be together. I
won't ever leave you!"
"I love you!" said Allison.
"I love you too!" I said.
"Goodbye!" said Allison.
"Goodbye!" I returned.
Then the train became too fast for Allison to follow, and our hands broke apart. Allison fell to
the ground.
"Allison!" I said, and then within what seemed seconds she was out of my sight. I pulled my
head inside the train, and started to cry. It hadn't even been minutes, yet I was already missing my wife.
How could I live even a day without her? She was everything to me.
Just then I heard laughter. I turned around, and saw Alexander, which was actually Allison's half
brother. He slapped me on the shoulder.
"Ho, boy," said Alexander, grinning. "Save some of those tears for the enemy. Maybe we can
use it to drown 'em!"
Everyone around me laughed.

23.
It was only the second day of being in the Great War, and I already felt that I was in hell. I was stuck in
a trench, with soaked boots. Where I was it smelt of urine, and feces. There were rats, feasting on fresh
corpses, and pounding noises that damaged the ear.
I was shaking, and almost crying. I didn't want to run out there like all the others. I kept
imagining myself back at home in England, hugging my Allison.
"Alright, men!" said the commanding officer in his bellowing voice. "It's time we struck back!
No more dawdling! We must make the enemy to pay! Prepare yourself to charge on the frontline! On
my command!"
"Stick close to me," Alexander said to me. "If trouble happens, I'll help you out."
"I'm sorry to say," I said. "I don't hold much faith in you."
"I'm tough as they come," said Alexander. "Don't think I can't kick arse."
"I'm sure you can," I said.
Then we heard the commanding officer say, "CHARGE!"
All at once we jumped out the trenches, and started running towards the enemy. My legs felt
rubbery, but I managed to keep going. Alexander kept shouting at me to not fall behind, and keep on
going.
But I could see in my peripheral vision that many men were falling as they were shot. And then
my turn came. A shell landed in front of us.
The explosion sent me flying back, and rang my ears. Dirt, and debris went into my eyes.
Shrapnel hit the skin on my cheeks, and torso, and legs. I felt the wind come out of me. I crawled
around, stunned, dazed. I couldn't see, much less hear.
Yet I screamed, and then I felt someone lift me up. It was Alexander, carrying me over his
shoulder. While the krauts shot at us, he took me back to the trenches to seek shelter.

24.

I wound up in hospital. I was one of many, being tended to. I felt so weak. My vision was still hazy,
and I had no hearing in my left ear. The nurses went around making sure everyone was okay. But in
reality there wasn't much they could do.
Eventually, I succumbed to some sort of sickness, and I died. The bacteria killed me.

I became a ghost. I went to my cemetery, and saw Allison dressed in a black dress, sitting in front of
my headstone. She was crying, holding onto a single flower that was all she could afford. I felt so bad
for her, but I had to leave. I blew her a kiss, and looked at her one last time, then floated up, towards
the sky. There was a light waiting for me.

25.

I awoke from my coma. But contrary to what many people usually think, you cannot just bounce back
from it immediately. A coma is a healing process but also leaves you in a weak, frail state. It was a
long, arduous journey of physical therapy, which required determination, and exercise. Since I had very
little money, I did not go to a physiotherapist. Instead I had to look up the exercises online, and do them
on my own.
Did I do it right? I didn't know. I still felt, well, not very good. Ha. What else is new, right?
Accordingly, I woke up with a headache, but I got off my air mattress, anyway, because it was Allison's
big day.
She invited me to her wedding. So, I borrowed an old, rumpled tuxedo from my father, and I
went to the wedding via bus. I arrived at the church exactly on time. Being the pariah of the bunch, I
was given a seat all the way at the back. In a corner. In front of a column.
I didn't like the view, so I folded my arms, and waited for everything to get started. I felt very
bored. Weddings are always boring, right? I've never met anyone who went, "Wow! What an amazing
wedding! LOL!"
"When is this thing going to start?" I said to myself.
I leaned out, and saw there was some activity going on at the front, and more people we coming
in. But eventually, even thought it felt so, so long, we got to the meat of the wedding. You know, the do
you take this person, and that person, and this, and that part.
"Wow," I thought. "Allison looks...amazing."
Because she was shining. She had an ethereal glow to her. Oh, how I envied Liam. He was
about to become the luckiest man in the world. It kind of made me sad that I couldn't be up there, but I
was happy for them. It didn't matter I was heart broken, and sullen, I managed to smile. My one, and
only friend was going to have it all. I was glad. It shouldn't be any other way.
"Liam Smith," said the priest, "do you take Allison Beaumont to be your lawfully wedded wife
for better, or for worse, in sickness, and in health, in poorness, and in riches for the entirety of your life,
till death do you part?"
"I do," Liam said with a nod.
The priest looked at Allison.
"And do you Allison Beaumont," the priest repeated, "take Liam Smith to be your lawfully
wedded husband for better, or for worse, in sickness, and in health, in poorness, and in riches for the
entirety of your life, till death do you part?"
"I do!" said Allison.
"Then under the watchful eyes of God, and within my powers, under this church," said the
priest, "I now declare you, Liam, and Allison Smith, officially husband, and wife. You may now kiss
each other."
At this very moment, I closed my eyes like I was watching a horror movie. I didn't care where I
was. I couldn't stand to see Allison kissing anyone, even if it was her husband. I closed my eyes, and
heard the sounds of them kissing. I was so upset, I started crying.
Then I felt the hand of an older lady on my shoulder.
"Ah, yes," said the older lady, "aren't weddings beautiful?"
I nodded, and then the walkout music started playing. Allison, and Liam linked arms, and
walked down the aisle as people cheered. The doors burst open, and they went outside with rice being
thrown their way.
"What a waste of food," I thought.

26.

A long time went by. Yet nothing in my life had changed. There was no improvements. If anything the
very opposite. I felt I had taken many steps backward. I aged terribly, and looked even worse than
before. I still felt small, and insignificant, and worthless.
After contemplating about a week, I went to visit my parents. I finally confessed to them my
deep, dark secret. I told ma, and pa that I had depression, but they thought I was being stupid. They
scoffed at the idea. They blamed me for having a bad attitude, and told me to get off my ass, and do
something with myself.
I didn't know how to debate that. I returned to my shack, and wept for an hour. Nobody
understood me. I was all alone, and had nothing. I had no one to blame. I had been given many chances
to turn things around, but I was stuck in a deep, dark hole that I had unintentionally dug for myself. I
felt crippled, and without energy.
What did I have to do to get out of this funk? I didn't know. I tried to keep myself alive with
writing, but none of it worked out. I received rejection, after rejection, which in reality meant being
ignored. The very thing I poured my heart, and soul into was a complete failure. There was no reason
for me to live, or go on. I had completely lost my purpose.
Now I just wanted to disappear from this world. So, I grabbed a piece of paper, and pen, and
began writing my suicide note. I wanted to call it "13 Reason Why" but after "Googling" it, I found out
someone had already taken the name. Assholes!

27.

With my suicide note in my pocket, I found the highest building I could, and I stood on the roof, on its
very edge. I looked down, and got a serious case of vertigo. I felt sick, and dizzy. I wanted to jump, but
I kept hesitating. I was afraid.
As I tried psyching myself up to take the leap, a person below noticed me.
"Hey, that guy's gonna jump!" said the person below.
He took out his camera, and began recording me. The bastard didn't even care that I was going
to go splat. He just wanted a viral video.
"Stop recording my misery!" I said.
"Whatchu gonna do about it?!" said the person below.
I was absolutely livid! How dare he enjoy this! So, I did what any normal person would do, and
I went into my pocket, and found a nickel. I threw the nickel down. It went sailing through the air, and
hit the guy's foot. He didn't even flinch.
"Steel toe boots!" he shouted out. "Ha-ha-ha!"
"Damn you!" I shouted.
Did I have any more change? I searched my pockets. Nothing! Ah, well, it would be immoral,
anyway. So, I just stood around waiting for the guy to clear out. He was rather patient, actually, and his
attention brought more attention, and before I could do anything many, many people had gathered
around.
They were just staring up, waiting for me to descend. They wanted to see me die. They didn't
care that I was in misery. They wanted entertainment.
I thought about not jumping just to spite them.
"Jump!" one said.
And then the crowd joined in, chanting: "Jump! Jump! Jump! Juuuuump!"
Forget it. I couldn't jump with all these people around. I was too nervous. I stepped away from
the ledge, and left the roof. I could hear them groaning with disappointment. Ha-ha-ha.

28.

The following night, I had a nightmare. I dreamt that I was in my home. Not my shack. My actual
home, in my parents' house. It was dark inside. There was nobody with me. I was completely alone. I
felt chilly, and alone, and lost.
A voice told me, "You are cold, and miserable because you are not letting in the light."
I noticed that, yes, the sun was hidden behind the blinds. So, I ran to the blinds, and pulled them
up. The flood of light hit my face, and I melted.
I awoke from my sleep, and thought: W.T.F? Then I went back to sleep, and had another dream.
I was with my family: Ma, Pa, and my older brother, and sister. I was a child, hugging my knees, while
they were twice their normal size. They were surrounding me in a circle, trapping me.
They were doing what they did to me when I was younger. My dad was yelling profanities at
me, and whipping me with his belt. My mom was criticizing all aspects of my life. At same time my
sister was calling me fat, and punching me. My brother was just pointing, barking commands like he
owned me. I heard him call me a loser.
Then for the second time, I woke up. I wiped tears away from my eyes. I began having thoughts
of suicide again. Why was I so afraid of doing it? Each time my mind went to it, I chickened out. But I
knew that an after life existed in the form of reincarnation.
Reincarnation was for real. What mathematically speaking would preclude it from being true?
In an infinite span of time, how can we not return?
I see it like this. Imagine a group of ten people in a forest. They split up. Why? I don't know.
They want to explore on their own, and then they go off. Now, if they stay within the forest, given an
adequate amount of time they will all reunite, and become a group again. So, what does this mean for
me, and you?
The group represents one person. The individuals are the molecules that make up a human
being. Then these molecules separate into the forest that is the world, or universe, and time passes by,
and these molecules come back together. The group that broke up becomes a group again. Like the
group you are broken apart, and return to yourself.
Is that a strange concept? Being raised on Judeo-Christian values, I would say it is.

29.

I took an undeserved trip to the beach, to relax, and just look at the water. Today was warm. I watched
the clouds move across the horizon, and the waves crashing against rock. The air felt so fresh, and
invigorating. At six in the morning it was calm, and I was the only person here. Except for a little girl.
She was running along the sands, taking the starfish washed up on shore, and throwing them
back into the sea. There must've been thousands of starfish.
I went up to the little girl, and I said, "What is the point of doing this? You cannot help them
all."
The little girl looked at me, and replied, "Yes, but to each starfish I help, it matters to them."
Then I said, "No, it doesn't. Starfish don't have brains. They're barely alive. They have no self-
awareness. As far as evolution goes, they are right on the bottom of the evolutionary ladder. A common
household fly is many times more complex than a starfish, yet we swat them, and squish them to death,
don't we?"
"Is that true?" said the little girl.
I nodded. The little girl then ran away.
"Ah, children," I said. "So innocent, and so naive."
I sighed, and sat down to enjoy the view. The waves of the sea were hypnotic. So majestic, yet
so terrifying, for in the depths was a world we did not know, like the subconscious of the human mind
in where we keep our dreams, exhilarating, exciting, and mysterious. Yet what dreams we have are only
to be lost to the vastness of this world, and to our ignorance. Where must we go from here? Into the
void?
I took off my shoes, and my socks. I got to my feet, and felt the lukewarm sand between my
toes. I felt calm. I felt ready. I slowly walked into the sea, and embraced mother nature. This was how I
committed suicide. I lost myself in the water.

30.

I felt so light. I felt like air. I gradually rose up in the sky, and went through to the top of a cloud. Here I
stopped. My feet set down, and I saw there was an old Chinese woman, smiling at me. She was behind
a table with an ornate pot of tea, and matching cups.
"How are you?" she said in the most gracious manner. "Don't be afraid. Come forward. We have
much to discuss."
 So, I did just that. I went over to the old Chinese woman.
"Hello," I said. "Am I in heaven?"
The old Chinese woman chuckled.
"No," she said. "This isn't heaven. There is no such thing as heaven -- well, in the way that you
imagine it to be."
"No heaven, huh?" I said.
"I'm afraid not," the old Chinese woman replied. "But that's okay."
"Why is it okay?" I asked.
"Because you will have another chance at life," said the old Chinese woman.
"Wait," I said, "do you mean reincarnation?"
"Yes, that's what some people call it," said the old Chinese woman.
"Some people?" I asked. "Why? Do you have your own term for it?"
"I'm more of an environmentalist," said the old Chinese woman. "So, I see it as recycling."
"Interesting," I said. "So, what do you make of global warming?"
"Global warming is a misnomer," explained the old Chinese woman. "The real term is global
climate change."
"Oh," I said. "My mistake."
"None taken," said the old Chinese woman.
I looked down at the teapot, and teacups.
"So, what's the deal with the teapot?" I said. "You don't even have tea cozy on it."
"I'm not British," said the old Chinese woman.
"Okay, so am I going to be reincarnated, or what?" I said
"Patience, young grasshopper," said the old Chinese woman. "First, I must first finish my
exposition. You are a writer. Surely, you are aware of such a thing."
"I'm not a writer," I said.
"You are," said the old Chinese woman. "You have written many things. That makes you a
writer."
"But no one liked what I did," I said. "I couldn't even get published. I was a failure."
"Unfortunately," said the old Chinese woman, "great artists only become famous in death."
"You think I'm a great artist?" I said with a smile.
"Well," said the old Chinese woman, "you write better than Stephenie Meyer."
"That's not a compliment," I said.
"Take what you can get," said the old Chinese woman. "You wrote a book about
anthropomorphic animals."
"Fair play to yah," I said. "Fair play."
"Now," said the old Chinese woman. "Let me explain the process of recycling/reincarnation.
You will go back to earth, and you will be alive just as you're used to. But the problem is it's a little
random."
"In what way?" I said.
"You could be anything," said the old Chinese woman. "A black person. A white person. A
woman. A man. Someone who believes in a flat earth. It's incredibly random."
"But what about karma?" I asked.
"Karma is just the Buddhist's version of hell," said the old Chinese woman. "It's a fantasy...
Although some say the perception of yourself has a small influence on what you become."
"So, I'm powerless?" I groaned.
"That is up to you," said the old Chinese woman.
"Oh, no," I said. "What if I'm born in the middle of Africa?"
"What's wrong with Africa," said the old Chinese woman. "Are you racist? Are you a racialist?"
"W-what?" I said. "N-no... Noooo. It's just that that, you know, STOP ACCUSING ME OF
BEING RACIST! I'M NOT RACIST!"
"Relax," said the old Chinese woman. "I was only pulling your leg."
"Ah, yeah," I said. "I knew that."
The old Chinese woman poured me a cup of tea, and presented it to me.
"Here," she said. "Take it."
"Oh, no, thanks," I said. "I'm not thirsty."
"You must sup on my cup," said the old Chinese woman. "It is how you return."
"Yuck," I said. "I don't wanna sup on anyone's cup."
"Drink the damned tea!" said the old Chinese woman.
"Alright," I said. "No need to be pushy."
I picked up the tea cup, and --
"Wait," said the old Chinese woman.
"What?" I said.
"I forgot to tell you something," she replied. "Aren't you in love with someone named Allison?"
"Oh, oh, yeah, I guess I am," I said. "Why do you ask?"
"Do you want the 'option'?" asked the old Chinese woman.
"What's the 'option'?" I asked back.
"Well," said the old Chinese woman, "we have this special program. In this program you can
trade something to help out the person you love in your next life."
"What can I trade?" I asked.
"Different things," said the old Chinese woman. "Like an arm. You can be born with one arm
missing."
"And what does that do?" I asked.
"Allison will never ever break her arm," said the old Chinese woman.
"Uh, nah," I said. "Not worth it."
"How about being born without a leg instead?" suggested the old Chinese woman. "If you do
that Allison will never ever fail an audition in the case she decides to become an actress."
"What? What is this?" I said. "It makes no sense. Why would I do that? Just tell me, what's the
one that's not, you know, frivolous."
"Ah, yes," said the old Chinese woman. "You can give up your looks for Allison. That will
ensure that Allison is never poor, and financially speaking she will live a comfortable life. Also, the
chances that she dies early will be significantly reduced."
"Oh, boy," I said. "This is so weird."
"That's the best one," said the old Chinese woman. "You live your next life as someone ugly,
and Allison is taken care of. At least to a certain degree."
"I'm already not so great looking," I said. "I mean, what is your definition of ugly? I'm ugly
right now, aren't I? I don't know if there's a way to make me uglier."
"It's your choice," said the old Chinese woman. "But it's not so bad giving up your looks. Good
looks just leads people into trouble, and bad behavior, to be frank."
"Tell me about it," I said. "Allison's hurt me so bad. But I think that... I think that..."
"You think what?" said the old Chinese.
"I think she should have a good life," I said. "I remember she told me when her parents split up,
and she became poor. She had to sleep on the floor without a bed. Well, wherever she is, and whenever
she is, I never want that to happen to her again."
"So you agree?" said the old Chinese woman. "You give up your looks to help Allison?"
"Yes," I said.
"Good," said the old Chinese woman. "Finally, we can begin the process. Please, drink your cup
of tea."
 I put the tea cup in my hand up to mouth, and I blew on it, and started drinking. As I was almost
done, it was at that point my stomach began rumbling, and feeling queasy.
"How's the tea?" said the old Chinese woman.
I groaned, "I don't feel too good."
"Fantastic!" the old Chinese woman exclaimed. "It means it's working."
I held my belly, and my knees started feeling weak. I threw up on the ground. The old Chinese
woman scratched her head.
"Wait a minute," she said. "That shouldn't be."
She lowered down, and looked under her table, where she kept her tea. There was a box of tea
to the left that was labeled "Reincarnation Tea" and to the right something that said "Poison Tea."
"Ah, well," said the old Chinese woman. "There's your problem. I gave you poison tea."
"Poison tea!" I said. "Why would you give me poison tea! More importantly why would you
have poison tea!?"
"Relax," said the old Chinese woman. "It's only a nickname. It's not really poison. It just tastes
like it."
"I think I'm gonna die!" I said.
"You're already dead," said the old Chinese woman.
"Right," I said, and then I collapsed.
The old Chinese woman stood above me, and looked down. She turned her head, and called out
to someone: "MEDIC!"

31.

I didn't die. That is to say say, I didn't die again. Au contraire, mon frere. I was alive, and well. When
mine eyes opened they saw the familiar sky blue sky of the earth again. But where was I? Who was I? I
knew I was reincarnated, so this was a brand new life.
My first thought was that my body felt so strange... So bizarre. I got up to my feet, and looked
at my surrounding to see exactly where I was. It seemed I was in some type of jungle. Africa? Hey, I
not racist. It could be Africa. I just didn't recognize any of the plants. There were these strange, tall,
green plants all around me. And I mean all around me, I was completely surrounded. It was pretty
much all I could see.
Having not many options of what I could do, I began walking. I wandered around, searching for
people, or any type of civilization. I was not much of an outdoors-man, so I knew that if I stayed her
longer than a few days, I would surely be dead.
"C'mon," I thought to myself. "There must be an exit somewhere?"
After walking for three hours, I was ready to call it quits, and then I came out of the jungle. I
found myself on...a sidewalk? Were my eyes deceiving me? I was on a street, except everything looked
enormous. Absolutely gigantic. It was all regular stuff, on a regular street, but I swear a thousand times
bigger. I didn't know what was happening.
As I was looking up, the ground started shaking like there was an earthquake, and I saw an
overweight man, a giant really, coming down the sidewalk.
"Oh, shit," I said, and I ran out of the way to avoid being stepped on.
It was a close call, I almost got squished by his foot. I raised my arm, and shook my fist. Only it
wasn't a fist. It was...something else. What the hell?! My fist, my arm was a dark brown, almost black
in color. It looked hard, and skinny, like a stick.
I started freaking out. I started sprinting, heading for I don't know where, and then I fell off the
sidewalk, and fell into a puddle below. In the water, I lifted my head, and saw my reflection. I couldn't
believe it. I wasn't a human anymore. I was something else. Was I a monster? No. I knew exactly what
I was.
 I was an ant.

32.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!" I screamed.
I was literally an ant! This is what my reincarnation has led to! I became a tiny, little insect!
Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ Almighty!
After I stopped freaking out, I reluctantly stared at my reflection once more, studying myself. I
didn't like this. I didn't like this at all, but I tried convincing myself that things were going to get better.
"Be positive," I said to myself. "For once in your life be positive. Maybe all your negativity is
the reason why bad things happen to you. Force yourself to be positive, and positive outcomes will
happen."
Ah, I hardly believed my own words, yet I gave it a shot. I noticed I had wings on my back.
Hey. That's cool, I thought. Right? I could fly. So then, I tried flying -- to no avail. Wet wings
don't fly. Oh, well, they'd dry off later, and I'd make do with what I had. What choice did I have,
anyway? I always had to make do. No options ever for a guy, I mean, an ant like me.
Yes. An ant. That's what I really was.
No, no, no, no, no! This had to be a nightmare. A trick of the mind. Maybe I was on drugs, or
something else. But no, drugs are usually pleasant, aren't they? That's why people do them. It's an
escape. Nobody takes drugs to turn into an ant. I wasn't on drugs. I'd never been on drugs.
This was a dream. That's what it was. I wasn't an ant. I was dreaming. And I was going to pinch
myself awake; however, being of an ant that wasn't possible. Instead, I tried ramming my head into the
nearby concrete kerb. I ran into it, and went smash! I didn't wake up. I only had a pounding headache.
"Bad idea," I groaned.
I stumbled around for a bit, and stopped to rest. Time went by. Nothing about me had changed.
Did dreams, or nightmares, usually last this long? I felt hours had gone by. Still I remained an ant.
I sighed. "Well, it seems my fate has been sealed. I'm an ant. This is who...nay, what I am."
As I moped around, wandering aimlessly, I heard the voice of some school children. There were
three boys, and a girl. They circled me. Unsure what they wanted, I paused, and looked up at them.
"Lookit what we have here," said one boy. "A cute, tiny, little ant."
"Don't hurt it," said the girl. "He looks lost."
"Where's your colony?" said the second boy.
"I don't know," I replied.
Why was I talking to them? They couldn't hear me, or understand me. Probably both.
"I, I, I know what to do," said boy three, and he reached down, and grabbed me.
As the only girl in the group screamed, the same as I did, he tore off my wings.
"What did you do that for?!?" said the girl.
She hit boy three on the shoulder.
"Sorry," said boy three. "I got bored."
"Then play a video game!" said the girl.
"Relax," said the second boy. "It's just an ant."
I was yelling in agony, lying on my side.
"It's not just an ant," said the girl. "It's a real, live, living creature."
"Says you," said the first boy.
"I'm leaving," said the girl. "This is what I get for trying to be one of the boys. You're all
sickos!"
The girl turned around, and left. The others followed, and the four children were gone.
"Why?" I said, writing in pain. "Why me?"
33.

Wounded, with half my senses about me, I collapsed near a patch of brown grass. I couldn't move. As I
laid down, I saw an angel. I talked to this angel.
"Good, fine ant," said the angel. "What ills you on this glorious day?"
"Answer me this question," I said. "Am I Job?"
"Steve Jobs?" said the angel.
"No," I said. "Job. Not Jobs. Job from the Bible, remember? He was tortured, so that God could
prove a point to the devil."
"Ooooh," said the angel. "That Job. Yeah, no, you're not Job. And God doesn't exist, if you're
curious."
"I've always suspected," I said, "but wasn't ever really sure. Wait a minute. You're an angel.
How is it you think there's no God, when you're an angel?"
"Never met the guy," said the angel. "He's never replied to any of my letters either. Sure, other
people claim he's real, but I don't know that. I haven't seen Him with my own eyes. Have you?"
"I can't say I have," I said.
"So, yeah," said the angel, "I see someone's ripped off your wings."
"I am in great pain," I said. "Can you help me?"
"You're an ant," said the angel. "You don't need my help. You will heal. You're stronger than you
believe."
"I'm not," I said. "I'm a stupid, weak, little ant of a man."
"You're not a man," said the angel. "You're an ant. Ants are powerful. Now, rise! Rise up! You
will heal! Up! Up! Up!"
"Excuse me," I said. "I don't mean to be accusatory, but are you a hallucination?"
"You've finally caught on," said the angel. "But that doesn't make my words any less true. You
need to believe in yourself."
"I'll believe in myself when someone else does first," I replied.
"Then you will never believe in yourself then," said the angel.
The angel slapped me in the face, and flew away. The slap in the face did something to me. It
roused me fully awake.

34.

I spent some time, trying to come to terms with what I was. I believed that I was being punished for
committing suicide. This was an "up yours" move done by the gods, or whoever's actually in charge --
a new existential crisis foisted upon me for trying to cheat, and get out of my other life.
But, oh, how could they be so cruel, and blame me for doing what I did? Do they know how
much I was suffering? I was that guy, you know. The guy that people point to, and say, "Well, at least
I'm not that guy." That's who I was.
Now, they've made me an ant, and this is punishment, a real kick in the teeth. I don't even know
if I have teeth. What do I have as an ant? Mandibles? I had mandibles.
"Hey, buddy," said a voice. "What are you doing away from the formicary?"
I turned around, and saw another ant looking my way.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"Ah, sorry," said Antonio. "I meant to say: "What are you doing away from the colony?" You
see, I'm trying to expand my vocabulary, that's why I used the word formicary instead of colony. They
pretty much mean the same thing though."
"You, you can talk?" I stammered.
"Yeah, right back at you," said Antonio.
 "Listen," I said, "I'm not an ant."
"You're not an ant?" said Antonio.
"No," I explained. "I'm really a human. Well, I'm a human in an ant's body."
"Oh-ho-ho," Antonio laughed. "That's rich."
"It's not rich!" I said. "It's true!"
"You're one of those weird ants, huh?" said Antonio.
"What weird ants?" I said.
"There's a group of ants that think they're really human," said Antonio. "I used to be one of
them. Not anymore though. I came to my senses, and realized I just thought I was a human because
subconsciously I was dissatisfied with my lot in life. But serving the queen ain't too bad. It gives me
purpose."
"No, it's true," I said. "I'm reincarnated. Or if you will, recycled. I'm not crazy, okay. I remember
being a human."
"What was your human name?" said Antonio.
I drew a blank. My memory was fuzzy. I knew I used to be human, but I couldn't remember a
lot of details.
"Ummm," I went. "I don't remember my name."
"See, I knew you weren't human," said Antonio.
"Oh, and what's your name then?" I said.
Antonion grinned. "Antonio."
"ANTonio?" I said. "How clever."
"Hey, Antonio's not such a bad name," said Antonio. "At least I'm not Antoine."
"I like the name Antoine," I said.
Antonio waved. "Let's go now." He began walking. "I know you're experiencing some type of
amnesia, so I'll help you along, and jog your memory."
"But I don't wanna go with you," I said.
Antonio paused. "You're going to die out here on your own. You need a team to survive. Get on
the bloody team!"
"I refuse your membership," I said. "I'm going to be a lone wolf. It's my way or the highway,
toots."
"Do you always speak in cliches?" said Antonio.
"Everything's a cliche," I said. "Even the term 'cliche' is cliche. How about that? Did I just your
mind blown?"
"You blew something," said Antonio, "but it ain't my mind."
"Is that so?" I said.
"Bah, I don't have time for this," said Antonio. "I'm leaving. If you die it's not my fault. I tried to
help. Good day to you, sir!"
"See yah later," I said.
And with that Antonio left. Now it was just me against the elements.

35.

I didn't know how to live as an ant. I certainly didn't know how to survive. So, I decided that instead I
would sneak into someone's house, and be a leech, and eat what they had available. Accordingly, I
made the journey to the closest house I could find.
I looked up at the door to "21 Ferry Crescent" and eyed the distinct crack beneath, which, on
account of my size, could provide me more than enough room to go through.
"Well," I said to myself, "here I go, living my new life as an ant. And once again I find myself
being a purposeless loser, who has to survive on the generosity of someone else's crumbs. I suppose it
could be worse, right? What if I was a housefly? I'd only live 28 days, and I'd have to eat shit... Okay
then, I guess I'd better go in now."
I crawled under the door's crack, and got into the house. Right away I noticed the house smelled
really gross. Was it really the house, or was it that being an ant gave me a heightened sense of smell?
Maybe a combination of both?
I didn't really want to go searching for another place to live, since I had to walk so far, so I
decided this would be my home. I crawled along the floors, and went into the kitchen. There was plenty
of food, but it was all kept on the counter. The counter which from my perspective looked as tall as two
houses.
"Now how the hell am I supposed to get up there?" I asked myself. "Wait a minute, I'm an ant!
Can't ants crawl up walls, and shit?"
So, I took to climbing up to get to the counters, and shit. I began by putting one foot on the faux
wood, and then the second, and the next, and the other, until finally I was crawling like Spiderman.
"This is pretty fun," I said, talking to myself. "I feel like Ant-Man, but with Spiderman's
abilities!"
After climbing about 4 feet, I got to the top of the counter. Lucky me. The owners of the house
weren't around, and they'd left all their groceries out. I could smell all the good stuff. Especially the
sugar. I had such a sugar craving, and I was thirsty.
I spotted a box of Chapman's ice cream, and it was dripping its ice cream down its side. I licked
my mandibles, hungrily, and went over to it. I licked whatever ice cream was available. Not a bad find.
I know to a human it wouldn't seem much at all, but a droplet of ice cream to me was like a whole cup.
And it was delicious, delicious vanilla ice cream. I ate all that I could, until I felt full.
"Well, well, well," I said to myself, "looks like being an ant isn't such a bad thing after all. You
know, I think I can deal with this. Not being human has taken a huge burden off my shoulders. There's
no such thing as failing as an ant. I can do anything I want. My only objective in this life is to survive.
That's bloody swell!"
As I was talking to myself, pleased as punch, I heard the owners of the house. There was the
noise of chimes, and the front door opening. It was a middle-aged lady, and a middle-aged man.
"JO-SUF!" said the middle-aged lady. "Did you put away the groceries like I asked?"
"It slipped my mind," said the middle-aged mind.
The two then started arguing, I presumed for the fifth time today.
"You idiot!" the middle-aged woman shouted. "You filthy idiot!"
"Lay off me!" said the middle-aged man. "I'm over the hill for godsakes! I don't even know
where my keys are, and you're giving my crap for not putting away the groceries?!"
The middle-aged lady came into the kitchen, and gestured to the groceries.
"My beautiful groceries!" said the middle-aged lady. "Now they're ruined!"
"Stop exaggerating!" said the middle-aged man, coming into the kitchen. "They're fine!"
"What about my ice cream?!" said the middle-aged woman. "It's melting!"
The middle-aged woman looked at me standing by her box of melted ice-cream.
"Youraaaaaagh!" she shrieked. "An ant! Oh Jesus, oh God, oh Lord! We're going to have an ant
infestation! JO-SUF! Remember that picnic we had in the year 1999, and all those ants were there,
because you dropped a piece of cake on the ground?! This is like that!"
"Calm down," said the middle-aged man. "Just squish it."
"Squish it?" I said. (They couldn't hear me.)
"Alright," said the middle-aged woman, and she raised her hand in the air, and slammed it down
on top of me.
It went BLAM! But I didn't die, I only got shook. The lady missed by a hair. I was situated
between the spaces of her chubby fingers. She lifted her hand, and saw that I lived.
"It's still alive!" said the middle-aged woman.
 "It's just an ant," said the middle-aged man. "Who cares?"
"I care!" said the middle-aged woman.
"Then do something," said the middle-aged man.
On those words, I took that as the cue to exit, and I started scurrying away. The middle-aged
woman grabbed a broom, and swung it at me. I fell to the ground, where she continued trying to attack
me. But I managed to slip between the space between the oven, and wall.
"Agh," said the middle-aged woman. "He's gone behind the oven. Jo-suf, can you move it for
me?"
"I have back problems," said the middle-aged man. "You can do it yourself, if you think that ant
is such a big deal."
"You're just being lazy," said the middle-aged woman.
"Oh, I'm lazy because I won't do what you won't do?" said the middle-aged man.
The middle-aged woman glared at her husband. "Sometimes you just don't get it."
"Eh, I'm fine with that," he replied.
While I stayed hidden, sheltered behind the oven, the middle-aged woman put away the
groceries, and the middle-aged man went off into the living to watch television. I patiently waited for
them both to go away, and I left. I couldn't stay here. They reminded me of my parents.

36.

I wandered the streets at night. My ant eyes were so big that I could see surprisingly well. Although I
was afraid. Everything was a threat to me. The moths, the other insects, and bugs, and creatures all
scared me.
"Why is the world so scary?" I said to myself.
I hid behind a pebble, and watched two cockroaches having sex with each other. It was the
grossest thing I had ever seen. Oh, by the way, I wasn't watching because I was a pervert. I hid
specifically because of them, and I was keeping an eye out, and then they just started banging without
warning. And, hoo boy, the noises were weird, like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.
"Jesus, hurry up," I grumbled.
Finally, the cockroaches finished.
"That was ahhhhmazing," said the male cockroach.
"Yeah, I've had better," said the female cockroach.
"I'm not your first?" said the male cockroach.
"Why, no," said the female cockroach. "Did you think you were special? There's like a trillion
cockroaches. You think I'd have the discipline to refuse them all? Some of them are very handsome."
The male cockroach seemed irritated. "You know what you are? You're a filthy cocksucker! Ah-
ha-ha, get it? Cocksucker? We're cockroaches, so, um, you know it's a play on words."
"I don't appreciate the name calling," said the female cockroach. "I think I'm pregnant. Future
mother here. So, have some respect. It's the hardest job in the world."
"It is not," said the male cockroach.
"Whoa, whoa," said the female cockroach, "wait, I think I'm about to explode."
The male cockroach stood back, and the female cockroach put her bum in the air, and spewed
out no less than fifty baby cockroaches. I almost threw up at the sight.
"Good Godfrey!" said the male cockroach. "How many cockroaches did you actually sleep
with?!"
"That's none of your business," said the female cockroach in a weary voice. "And for your
information this is how many babies any regular female cockroach has."
"Nuh-uh," said the male cockroach. "My mom only had twenty."
"I don't care about your mom," said the female cockroach. She gathered her ugly babies in her
arms. "Now, help me out here. You are the father, after all."
"I am not the father!" said the male cockroach.
"We had sex, babies came out," said the female cockroach, "you're the father."
The male cockroach groaned, but nevertheless he helped his lover with her over 50 babies, and
the two began stumbling away.
But then a rat suddenly appeared, and attacked them, and ate them all in one go. Just like that!
To be honest, I was kind of angry; however, the rat got his when a predatory bird swooped down, and
picked him up with its very sharp talons.
Then after that the bird was eaten by a larger bird, and that larger bird was hit by a low flying
airplane. How strange that I was watching natural selection take place all within two minutes. The
winner: Mankind!
"Well," I said to myself, "that's the circle of life... Naaaaasinvenyah! Vah vah veechy vah vah!
Seeeeetibooo ven yah wah!"
Okay. I got that out of my system. Now, I had to find some shelter. I found a quiet spot on the
ground, and a nice green leaf. I used the leaf for a makeshift blanket. I covered myself up, yet I was
still miserably cold. I fell asleep anyway, because I was so damned exhausted.

37.

As they say in the Bible: "You're damned if you do, and you're damned if you don't." This coming
morning, I was thoroughly damned. I woke up with the sun hitting my face, and I discovered I was not
in the place in which I had slept. I was somewhere else, somewhere unfamiliar.
"What the hell is going on?" I asked myself.
I was in someone's house, a bedroom, but I was blocked off by glass walls, and the whole floor
was made out of some type of blue gel. What was this? The transparent corridors were so narrow, and
there were other ants here.
"Hey!" I said to one of them "The fuck!?"
A red colored ant with wings on its back came up to me.
"Yo, wassup?" said Anthony the ant. "I'm Anthony!"
"What, what is this?" I asked. "Where am I?"
"Boyyyyy," said Anthony. "You're on an ant farm."
I lifted my feet, and tried kicking off the blue gel stuck to my soles. "This is not an ant farm.
Ant farms aren't supposed to be filled with Jazzberry Jell-o"
"Yah, I know," said Anthony. "We're in one of those high-tech, NASA inspired ant farms. You
can eat the blue gel, if you want."
Anthony lowered his head, and munched on some of the blue gel below him.
"Looks appetizing," I said. "Not!"
"Don't knock it till you try it," said Anthony.
So, I tried some of the blue gel, and immediately spit it out. "This is disgusting. What is this
made out of? Ass?!"
"It's an acquired taste," said Anthony.
"Maaan, I can't live here," I said. "This is insane."
"Stop criticizing my home," said Anthony. "It's not as bad as you think. We have tunnels, and
food, and orgies, and everything we need."
"Wait a minute," I said. "Orgies?"
"Yeah, orgies," said Anthony. "But you need wings to participate. No wings, you're pretty much
sterile. I don't know why that is. I guess wings are sexy? Hmm, I see you have no wings."
"So, I'm sterile?" I said.
"And not sexy," said Anthony.
 "Bah, I don't really care about mating," I said. "Or being sexy. Not my thing to be honest."
"You don't know what you're missing out on," said Anthony. "Although once you do mate, you
die after around...2 days? Yeah, your internal genitalia explodes. That's just for us males though,
obviously... Wait, why am I talking to you like I'm your teacher, or something. Don't you already know
about this stuff?"
"No," I said. "I was raised Catholic."
"Ah, that's what I thought," said Anthony.
"Man, alive," I said. "So, you die after having sex? I don't think it's worth it."
"Ah, yeah," said Anthony. "But all creatures put themselves at risk for sex, don't they? Ah, the
things that some will do for a little nookie -- idiots! Morons! Cretins!"
As I was thinking what to say, Anthony came closer to me, and stared at my face. I started
feeling self-conscious, and afraid. I backed up a little.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I said.
"Oh, I haven't seen your kind before," said Anthony.
"My kind?" I said. "And what do you mean by that?"
"You're black," said Anthony.
"Hey, judge me not by the color of my skin, but by the content of my character," I said.
"Relax," said Anthony. "I'm not judging you. I mean, you're a black species of ant. I was just
thinking. Maybe you're not like me; maybe you might be able to mate without wings."
"I told you," I said. "I'm not interested in that sort of thing."
"Why not?" said Anthony.
"I'm, erm, I'm saving myself for marriage," I explained.
"Sounds like you're just using making an excuse for yourself," said Anthony.
"It's not an excuse!" I yelled.
"Boy," said Anthony, "you black ants have real bad tempers."
I tried to calm down.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just a little frustrated with what's happening to me. I'm not supposed to
be an ant. I don't want to be an ant."
"I hear yah," said Anthony. "Being an ant is hard work. It's all this walking back, and forth, and
picking up things 20 times your weight. That puts a lot of stress on the joints. If you ask me, I'd rather
be another species of ant. Did you know there are over 12,000 species? Twelve-freaking-thousand!
What a selection, huh? There must be some real strange ones. I bet they have ants with eight legs. How
cool would that be, huh? Imagine being like Goro from Mortal Kombat."
"Not to burst your bubble," I said, "but I believe that Goro from Mortal Kombat has six limbs
only. Two legs, and four arms."
"Aw, man," said Anthony.
"But yeah, 12,000 species of ants," I said. "That's a lot."
"Oooh," said Anthony. "Do you know about honey pot ants?"
"No," I said.
"They're these ants from Australia," said Anthony, "and they have these big, juicy asses. Oh, it's
sooooo sexy. I just wanna ride their bums, and --"
"Stop, stop, just stop!" I said. "I do not find ants sexy! Stop talking to me about it!"
"Whoa, hey," said Anthony. "You don't find ants sexy? Then what do you find sexy?"
I scratched my head, so to speak.
"I dunno," I said. "I'm, I'm having a difficult time remembering things. I have this empty feeling
inside of me, like something's missing."
"You are one weird ant," said Anthony.
"Listen," I said. "I just wanna get out of here. Can you help me?"
"I don't want to help you," said Anthony.
 "And why not?" I said.
"I like talking to you," said Anthony. "You keep me company. All the other guys here just work,
work, work. No time for chatting, and doing fun activities."
"Hey, I have a deal for you," I said. "How about we both escape, and leave this place?
Whaddaya say? How's that for a plan?"
"You, and me?" said Anthony. "Hmmm... I don't know much about you."
"I'm a good guy," I said. "We can take care of each other. I'll scratch your back, and you scratch
mine. That type of thing."
"You'll scratch my back?" said Anthony. "Thanks!"
Anthony turned to present his back to me.
"The lower side," he said. "It's super itchy."
"I didn't mean I'd literally scratch your back," I said.
"So, you won't scratch my back?" said Anthony.
I sighed, and climbed onto Anthony, and started scratching his back. It was so rough.
"Yeahhhh, yeahhhh, yeahhh, oooooh, aaaah, right there!" said Anthony. "That's the spot!"
After about a minute, I stopped, and dismounted.
"There," I said. "Are we done now?"
"You've scratched my itch," said Anthony. "I'm good."
Anthony turned back to face me.
"But," he said, "I still don't know how we can escape here. Believe me I've tried. At least two
times."
"You only tried two times?" I said. "That's not that much."
"I give up easily, without someone motivating me," said Anthony. "But it's my only flaw. The
rest of me is pretty much perfect."
"I doubt that," I said, "but I'll take your word for it. Since I don't really have much of a choice."
"Okay, cool!" said Anthony. "So, do you have a plan?"
I didn't have a plan. I needed a plan. I wracked my stupid ant brain, trying to come up with a
means of escape. What could I do?

38.

"Eureka!" I exclaimed.
"What, what is it?" Anthony asked.
"I've come up with a plan," I said.
"Really?" said Anthony. "Tell me! Whisper it into my feet!"
So, I lowered down, and whispered my plan into Anthony's feet. I looked at his face, and he
seemed excited.
"That's genius!" said Anthony. "Absolute genius!"
"Thanks," I said.
A minute later, me, Anthony, and all the other ants in the ant farm had gathered on the surface.
After telling them what to do we all laid down on our backs, in a row, and laid as still as possible. Then
we waited.
Time seemed to pass by so slowly.
"This is taking forever," said Anthony.
"How is this forever?" I said. "At most ten minutes has passed by."
"Ten minutes is a long time," said Anthony. "Ants only live about 15 years long."
"15 years?" I said. "That's barely a teenager."
"What can I say?" said Anthony. "It's a hard-knock life."
"Shhhh, shhhh!" I said. "Someone's coming!"
 "It's Paulie!" said Anthony.
Paulie, a rotund boy of some 10 years, entered the bedroom. He climbed onto the bed, and
jumped on it for a minute. When he was tired, he took a 2 litre bottle of soda, and drank it in one
sitting. He burped, and came over to the ant farm. He stared down at us, laying down.
"What the deuce?" said Paulie. He tapped the glass of the ant farm. "Hellooooooo!"
"Don't move," I said to the ants.
"Wake up!" said Paulie, tapping the glass some more. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"
The ants around me, I could see, were having a hard time keeping it together. The tapping that
Paulie did on the ant farm felt like an earthquake was hitting us. Our bodies were literally shaking.
But soon Paulie became curious. Thinking we might be dead he lifted the lid off the ant farm.
The moment he did that Anthony took flight, while carrying me under his belly. We flew past Paulie's
surprised face, and hovered in the air for a moment.
"Where do I go?!" said Anthony.
"To the window!" I said.
We flew towards the window, and as we were about to escape, Paulie grabbed a newspaper, and
hit us. (What kind of 10 year old kid reads a newspaper?) We crashed to the floor.
On the floor, I saw that Anthony was unconscious.
"Anthony!" I cried. "Wake up!"
I looked up, and saw Paulie lifting his foot. I ran out of the way, and just narrowly avoided
death. Paulie stomped on Anthony, with his heel, flattening him out. It was horrific. For only half of
Anthony was squashed. His upper torso was intact, and he was alive, while his lower half was
eviscerated, and his guts were spilling out.
I hid under the bed, and stared.
"Anthony," I said in a trembling voice.
"It's okay," said Anthony. "Don't feel sorry for me. I lived a good life. It was a...big bucket of
win."
"No, you won't die," I said. "I'm going to help you."
"Too late," Anthony said, with his floppy head, staring into space. "I'm already dead. I can see
the light. Mama! Papa! Is that you? We'll be reunited again!"
And then Anthony died. At this moment, a girl, 11 years old came into the room. It was Paulie's
sister. This wasn't Paulie's bedroom. It was Cynthia's bedroom. She shoved Paulie.
"Paulie!" said Cynthia. "What are you doing here!?"
"Hey, don't shove me," said Paulie.
Cynthia went over to her ant farm, and looked at all the ants that were still playing dead.
"My ants!" said Cynthia. "You killed them!"
"Nuh-uh," said Paulie. "They were like that when I got here."
"You're lying," said Cynthia.
"I'm not lying, Cynthia," said Paulie.
"That's it!" said Cynthia, gesturing. "I've had it up to here with you!"
Cynthia lunged at Paulie, and the two started fighting. They were rolling around, grabbing, and
hitting each other. Paulie squealed like a pig.
"I better get out of here," I thought aloud.
While the brother, and sister battled, I took the opportunity to flee. I crawled along the floor,
and left the bedroom. I got out into the upstairs hallway. I looked left, and right, making sure the coast
was clear. I went down the stairs, and got to the ground floor. I went to the front door.
The front door was locked, and there was no way to go through. The bottom had a piece of
rubber at the bottom to keep out drafts.
"Damn it," I said. "How am I going to get out of here?"
I could still hear Paulie, and Cynthia fighting from upstairs. I would have to bide my time, and
wait for the front door to open, or find another route. I was impatient. I made the decision to find
another route.
I went into the living room. The TV was left on. All the lights were on. There was an open pizza
box on the coffee table, with a cup on its side, dripping a red liquid, and chips scattered around. My
guess was that Paulie, and Cynthia were left alone, and their parents weren't home. I saw nobody else.
So, I walked on top of the white (well, formerly white) carpet. It was so mucky, and dirty. The
fibers of the carpet was difficult terrain. I felt so unbalanced. I had to avoid balls of dust, and dirt. Not a
big deal to a human-sized person; however, I want an ant. It all seemed so big. I could see the textures,
and details, as if viewing it under a microscope.
I wished that someone would've cleaned up this place -- and then I got my wish.
Paulie and Cynthia's mom appeared from I don't know where, with a vacuum. She powered it
up, and it made this monstrous roar, and she started pushing it back, and forth sucking up whatever was
on the floor.
"Ah, shit, not now," I said.
Thinking quick, I climbed onto the sofa to escape the vacuum. That seemed to do the trick.
Paulie and Cynthia's mom passed me...for a moment. And then she saw me, and got out the vacuum
hose, and sucked me up.
I became shrouded in darkness, coughing, and gasping for air. I was trapped in rubbish.

39.

I spent days in the bag of the vacuum, shrouded in complete darkness. I did not think my life could get
any worse. I couldn't find a way out. I had to survive on whatever was inside the vacuum bag. I found a
watermelon ball covered in dust. I ate its juices to survive. Even though it was bigger than me, I didn't
know that I'd survive.
But I had patience, and soon garbage day came. Paulie, and Cynthia's mother decided to throw
out the vacuum bag. She opened up the vacuum, and I prepared myself. The moment, I saw light, I
crawled out as fast as possible, despite being disheveled, and low on energy. I hid behind a shoe, near
the front door, and waited for it to open.
Indeed, as I expected, Paulie and Cynthia's mother opened the front door. I scrambled outside,
and got onto the sidewalk. Finally, fresh air! My spiracles took it all in. I was feeling refreshed. I
couldn't believe I managed to get out of that vacuum.
Now, all I had to do was find shelter, a place to live...and that made me feel dejected. How is it
that this is my life? Find a place to live, and then what? Survive, living day to day, finding whatever
scraps that luck would provide me?
That is no way to live, yet here I was, walking down the sidewalk as an ant, an ant that had no
real purpose. What ant does have a "real purpose" though? Ah, and that's the trouble. They all have to
do the same thing.
I mean, why couldn't I be another type of insect, or tiny creature? How about a bee? That would
be awesome being a bee. I could fly around, visit flowers, and eat honey. And I would have a
meaningful purpose too, since bees are important to the ecosystem. Without bees people would starve
to death. Yeah, I'd like to be a bee.
"MAKE ME A BEE, DAMN YOU!" I cried to the people in the sky. "I DON'T DESERVE
THIS!"
"Hey, shut your fucking gob," said a voice. "Not everything's about you."
I stopped, and saw a spider hanging out beside a lamppost.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"I'm tired of hearing your shit," said Pete the spider. "You think you have problems? I'm a
spider."
 "So, what?" I said.
"I'm a spider that can't build webs," said Pete. "That's why I'm chillin' on the ground like a
plebe."
"That doesn't sound too bad," I said. "I'd rather be a spider than an ant. Spiders are cool."
"Yeah, spider are cool, because they can build webs," said Pete. "Without webs we're nothing!"
"But why can't you a build a web?" I asked.
"My father never taught me," said Pete.
"That's not how spiders learn to make webs," I said. "I'm pretty sure it's all instinct."
"Whatever the case is," said Pete, "I can't make one, and now I am damned to live like a loser."
"Yeahhh, join the club," I said.
"There's a club?" said Pete.
"No, I was just joking," I said.
"Damn," said Pete. "I was looking forward to joining that club. Ha-ha. Imagine that, a club full
of misfit insects, and bugs. We could be a ragtag team."
"Ragtag?" I said.
"Ragtag," said Pete.
"Why does that seem so familiar?" I asked myself. "Wait a minute! I remember!"
"Remember what?" said Pete.
"I used to be a human!" I said. "I wanted to be a famous writer, but I failed -- big time!"
"Oooh, that's interesting," said Pete. "I used to be a human, too."
"Seriously?" I said.
"Yeah, my memories a little fuzzy," said Pete, "but this old Chinese lady gave me some poison
tea, and I ended up here. I thought I'd go to heaven. This reincarnation thing doesn't make sense to me.
OR DOES IT?"
"What's that mean?" I said.
"Think about it," said Pete. "You reap what you sow. If you left the earth in a shitty manner
you'll come back to that. It's true karma. So the question is, why am I spider, why are you an ant, and
how come I'm having problems remembering my past? I know I'm human, or at least I used to be, but I
don't have my memories intact."
"You're not supposed to remember," I said. "Us memorizing anything is just a flaw in the
system. Me, I don't even know my own name."
"Tough luck," said Pete. "I know my name. It's Pete. Pete what? Not sure."
"Well," I said, "I know I'm a writer. I guess that's better than nothing."
"Now that you're an ant," said Pete, "what are you going to write about?"
"I can't write," I said. "I'm an ant. I don't even have hands."
"Hmm, seems like we have a lot in common then," said Pete. "I mean, you're a writer that can't
write, and I'm a spider that can't make webs. And we both used to be human, and we both sort of have
amnesia. Isn't that something?"
"What are you getting at?" I said.
"We should be friends?" said Pete.
"Friends?" I said. "With a spider. What if you eat me?"
"Oh, no," said Pete. "Spiders don't eat ants."
"Why not?" I said.
"It's not kosher," Pete replied.
"Fine," I said. "I'll be your friend. Maybe we can help each other out."

40.

Pete, and I traveled the world together, or at least what was the world to us. We were the best of friends,
going from place to place, surviving on our wits, and making do with whatever we were given. Some
nights were cold, some nights were hot, and some were rainy. Yet we endured. We continued on,
looking for we didn't know what, but we had hope for something.
It greatly reminded me of that movie "The Adventures of Milo & Otis" except instead of being a
dog, and cat, we were an ant, and spider.
"Whew," said Pete as we stopped to rest on a grassy knoll. "I'm bushed. All this traveling is hard
work. A spider isn't used to such activities."
"We'll take five," I said, "and keep on going."
"But where to?" said Pete.
"Not sure," I said. "Just a place we can both live. Somewhere nice. Maybe a mansion, with old
people living there. That would be perfect."
"The mansion part I get," said Pete, "but why old people?"
"Less likely, we'll be caught," I said. "Once you're up in those high ceilings, I don't think they
can reach."
"That's a good idea," said Pete.
"Thanks," I said.
"By the way," said Pete, "I'm famished. Do you have any snacks, or flies to eat?"
"I'm afraid not," I said. "But don't you worry. We'll find something."
"How?" said Pete. "I literally can't even make a web to save myself."
I took a moment to think.
"I know," I said, "how about instead of this web building business, you hide, and then when
there's a fly you jump out at it, and catch it?"
"You're kidding?" said Pete.
"I'm not," I said. "You could do it. You just have to be clever."
I brought Pete along with me to a pile of dog shit.
"See that?" I said.
"It's shit," said Pete.
"Yeah," I said. "Flies love shit. You just hafta bury yourself in the poo to hide, and when a fly's
on top I'll yell out to you, and you grab him, and do whatever spiders do."
"I'm not doing that," said Pete.
"Aren't you hungry?" I said.
"Not that hungry," said Pete.
"You are hungry," I said. "But you're scared."
"No, no, I'm not," said Pete. He changed his mind. "Ah, fine... Fine! I'll give it a shot!"
"Attaboy," I said. "Like my grandpappy used to say: You have to walk through the mud to get to
the roses."
"I wish it was mud," said Pete.
"Hurry now," I said. "We can't waste any time. Get dat fly!"
So, Pete buried himself in the pile of dog shit, and waited in there. He left a small but
unnoticeable hole to breathe, and waited. As fate would have it along came a fly. It landed on the shit. I
hid myself behind a clover, and watched.
"Loo, loo," said the fly, "what a lovely, bright day! I love life!"
The fly crawled around the dog shit, licking it, and sampling each part.
"Not many know this," the fly said to himself out loud, "but I'm a vegan. I like to keep it to
myself, because I don't want anyone getting the idea that I'm preachy. I'm not preachy. I'm only trying
to be a good fly. I love everyone. I want all the creatures on this planet to be happy, and healthy!
Oh, no, I thought, Pete was going to eat this poor, innocent fly. I didn't know every creature had
a mind, and heart of its own. This is weird. And sad. I couldn't let this happen. As the fly was off the
mark, I shouted out, Now!
 Pete jumped out of his literal shit-hole, and tried grabbing the fly. The fly went whoa! and got
startled, and flew off to safety. Covered in shit, Pete crawled down. I came out to look at him.
Why did you tell me to jump out? he asked.
Oh, well, uh, uh, uh, I stammered. It was a mistake. I miscalculated.
You made me miss, said Pete. On purpose.
No, I said, nooooooo. I would never dare.
Pete came closer to me.
Yes, you did, he said. Don't lie. I know what you did. I can read your mind. I'm psychic.
What, really? I said.
Nah, said Pete. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think this friendship is over. I can't trust someone
who wanted to rob me of a meal.
Pete turned around, and began walking away.
Wait, I said, following. I wasn't trying to rob you of anything. I just felt sorry for that fly.
Please, Pete. Can we talk about this? I really like being your friend. Because.... Because we're a pair of
weirdos. Weirdos should hang out with each other, right? Pete?
Suddenly Pete, stopped. And he turned around, and jumped on me. He tried biting me. I held
him back as I could. The spider's hungry had taken a hold of his mind, and he couldn't stop from trying
to have me as his meal.
Stop! I said to Pete. We're friends!
Pete didn't respond. He just kept snapping his jaws at me. He wouldn't, and couldn't listen to
reason. We wrestled, and rolled around on the ground. I was losing the battle. It wasn't that I wasn't
stronger than him, he was just far more agile. Having eight limbs he knew how to move, and maneuver
around whatever I had for him. He was faster in every respect -- he was like a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu black
belt. He was the shark, and the ground was his ocean, or something to that effect.
"Please!" I pleaded to Pete. "We don't have to do this!"
Pete stared at me with a blank stare. His voice was coarse.
"My name isn't Pete!" he said. "I am but a spider! I am an animal! My lizard brain is in control!
My instincts have taken over! All that I care for is food, and coitus!"
"Yeah," I said, "I can see that!"
Pete wrapped around my neck, with all eight of his limbs, and began squeezing as hard as he
could. My vision was getting dark. If only I could get my hands on him he wouldn't have a chance,
because of my strength. But that wasn't the case. I began to cry, and pray to God. I didn't have any other
hope. I said a payer in my mind, and hoped for help.
Then deus ex machina, the clouds from above began pouring rain, and a storm broke out.
Thunder clapped, and lightning flashed. The water engulfed us. Pete let go of me, and we were carried
down the street's gutter.
I lifted my head up, just barely, and saw we were on a course for the sewer grate. If we went
into that there was no way either of us would survive. We'd simply drown, and/or die from the sheer
drop.
You know, I never liked sewer grates. When I was a human, I'd stay clear of them. At first I
didn't do that, but after my keys fell in, and disappeared, I changed my behavior.
"Damn you, sewer grate!" I sputtered.
And as I was about to be swallowed by this sewer grate, a hand came down, and lifted me out of
the flowing waters. I crawled to the edge of the hand, and stared down. Pete was a goner. He entered
the sewer grate, and had dropped down. I doubted that he survived.
"Why, hallo, there," said a voice. "I hope you're okay."
I looked up, and saw someone familiar. I couldn't quite put my finger on it though. She just
seemed like a person I had met from before. My memory was still fuzzy from this whole reincarnation
"trip." Who was she?
 "You're lucky I caught you when I did," said Aoife Lynch.
"What an odd name?" I thought aloud. "How do you pronounce that? Ow-iffy? Nah. That
doesn't sound right."
"I'm goin' to take you home," said Aoife Lynch. "I hope you don't mind. You're injured, and
need time to heal. I'll put you in a mayonnaise jar, with a stick, and leaf, and whatever ants need to live.
What do you think?"
I waved my antennae. I'd rather be anywhere else than here.

41.

Just as I had been promised, I was placed inside a mayonnaise jar, minus the mayonnaise. There was a
stick, a leaf, a sugar cube, and some water kept in a bottle cap. To keep me from leaving a square of
plastic wrap was clung to the opening of my makeshift terrarium, thus sealing me in.
"Well, this isn't too bad," I said. "I've got all the amenities I need."
My mayonnaise jar was kept in Aoife's bedroom, placed on top of her nightstand. Aoife was
lying in bed reading an early edition copy of "A Farewell to Arms." Aoife had a lot of different books
all over the place. One stack even went to the ceiling.
I noticed as well she had a puffy, gray cat. The cat worried me. It kept staring at me, whilst not
moving a single inch. Its eyes stared, not moving whatsoever. Why was it doing that?
"Stop staring at me!" I yelled to the gray cat.
I knew the gray cat heard me, because its big ears twitched. Yet it ignored me. Asshole!
Aoife meanwhile was deep into her book. She rolled onto her belly, and turned pages.
"Oooh, yes, yes," she said to herself. "What a thing to do. How very interesting. Wow."
After about an hour or two of reading, Aoife had to take a wee-wee. (Her words, not mine.) So,
she put "A Farewell to Arms" on the nightstand, beside me, and left for the bathroom. I took a look at
the book, and noticed it was the edition that had the swears censored.
Except Aoife had filled in the spots, with her own naughty words.
There was: "Fuck nugget," "arse fecker," and my favorite "gobshite."
"What a woman!" I thought.
"Psssst!" said the gray cat.
"Huh?" I replied.
The gray cat jumped up onto the nightstand, and looked into my mayonnaise jar.
"Uhhhh, hello there?" I said in a trembling voice.
"Do you want me to free you?" said the gray cat.
"Free me?" I said. "Okay, then what? Where do I go from here?"
"I dunno," said the gray cat. "Find your ant colony, and live where you belong."
"I don't belong anywhere," I said.
"Jeez," said the gray cat. "Aren't you a downer?"
"If you haven't noticed," I said, "I'm not exactly living a fantastic life here. Would you want to
be an ant?"
"Eh, is that what they call you guys?" said the gray cat. "I always thought you were called
'crawly picnic bugs.'"
"Afraid not," I said.
"Alright, so," said the gray cat, "do you want to get out of here, or not?"
"I don't know," I said. "Why do you even care so much?"
"Must you question my motives?" said the gray cat. "For your information, not everyone in the
world is cruel, and uncaring. Sometimes we only want to help, and nothing more."
"In my book you're an anomaly," I said. "It seems that most people, and animals wouldn't care
for an ant. After all, why help those who cannot help you in return? Seems you only get help, if you can
give it too."
"Fine," said the gray cat. "Have it your way."
The gray cat turned around.
"Wait!" I said.
The gray cat turned back to me.
"I do want to be free," I said. "Please."
"Alright, alright," said the gray cat. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about. Okay, sir, get ready for
your freedom."
And with one swipe off his paw, and claw, the gray cat sliced open the plastic wrap on my
mayonnaise jar. I climbed out, and got onto the nightstand.
"Ah, fresh air," I remarked.
"Must be nice having all this freedom," said the gray cat. "Now you can do anything you want,
and so can I."
"So can you?" I said.
"Yes," said the gray cat, and the gray cat licked me up into its mouth.
I found myself in the darkness, all wet, and sticky, being pressed with a bristly tongue. This
although unpleasant, I could deal with, but the smell -- the smell was horrific. It smelled of rotting
meat, cat fur, and gastric juices.
I thought I was going to pass out, or die, but then Aoife returned to the bedroom. Upon seeing
the mayonnaise jar sans moi, and her pet maniacally grinning, she put the two, and two together, and
came to my rescue.
She grabbed the gray cat by the mouth, and pulled open his jaws, and shook him over the bed.
"Spit out the ant!" she yelled. "Spit out the ant!"
The gray cat rolled out its tongue, and I was released. I fell down onto the bed sheets. I felt
slimy, but was in okay shape. I hadn't really been harmed.
Aoife looked down at me, pointed her ear my way, and whispered, "Are you okay?"
As the gray cat ran away into a corner -- BAD KITTY! -- I instinctively replied, "Yeah, don't
worry about me. I've been through worse. Much worse."
"Ah, good," said Aoife. "I'm glad you're alright."
Hmm, what's all this then? It seemed like Aoife actually understood me. Could it be?
"Excuse me," I said.
"Yes," Aoife replied.
"Ummmm, do you understand what I'm saying?" I said. "Nod if you do, so that we can remove
all, and any ambiguity."
Aoife gave me a firm nod.
"By gum," I said. "You do understand me! How has this come to be? Your hearing is excellent,
too."
"Ah, yes," said Aoife. "It all started in the year 2001, when as a small child I was struck by
lightning. It did something to me brain, and I haven't been the same since."
"Must be strange being able to talk to animals, and insects, and things like that," I said.
"It is," said Aofie, "but I wish people would believe in my abilities. People keep calling me a
loonie."
"Why would they say that?" I asked.
"Well, after me mam found out I could speak to animals," Aoife explained, "I went on a TV
show. It was the biggest event of me life. I went up on that stage in front of t'ree judges. I tried makin'
me animals do tricks, and they all refused. They told me they were sick of bein' told what to do. Then
the audience started booin' me, and everyone thought I was a fraud. Someone even said that I should go
kill me self. I never followed through on it though. I like bein' alive, generally speakin'."
"Oh, yeah," I said, unsure what to say, "tell me about it."
 "Well now," said Aoife. "I have to ask: Do you want to stay here with me, or be freed?"
"First," I said, "I want to know why your cat tried to eat me. What cat eats an ant?"
Aoife made eye contact with her gray cat.
"I'm sorry," said the gray cat. "I was curious. I wasn't gonna swallow you, I swear! I only
wanted a little taste."
"Yeah, sure," I said.
"You tasted terrible," said the gray cat. "Like formic acid."
"Sorry about that," I said sarcastically.
"Well now!" said Aoife. "Are you going to come to a decision?"
"I want to live here," I said, "but your cat scares me."
"I can't get rid of my cat," said Aoife.
"Damn right!" said the gray cat.
"Can we negotiate?" I asked.
Aoife shook her head, no.
"That's a shame," I said. "I suppose I'll have to just live as a wanderer, without a home, going
from place to place, hoping to survive."
Aoife seemed really touched at what I told her. A tear formed in her eye, and rolled down her
cheek. She really cared about me, even though I was just an ant.
"It's not fair that you're an ant," said Aoife. "Okay, tell you what. We'll hold a contest."
"A contest?" the gray cat repeated.
"Whoever wins the contest gets to stay," Aoife told me. "If you win, you can stay here, and I'll
give Mittens away to my sister. But if you lose, then you'll have to find another place to live."
"Seriously?" said the gray cat. "You're going to hold a contest to see who gets to live here? This
is rubbish! RUB-BISH!"
"I hafta," said Aoife. "It's only fair. I can't value your life more than an ant's simply because it's
ugly."
I lowered my head. Aoife frowned.
"Ah, sorry," said Aoife. "I didn't mean it like that. But the painful truth is looks matter. But I
don't want them to. You know, they shouldn't."
"It's fine," I said. "What's this contest?"

42.

The hedge maze was enormous. The gray cat, and I stood before its opening, waiting for the signal to
go inside. Aoife was on the opposite end holding a bell. She told us she would ring it, and that would
start our race. First one to get to the exit, and meet her would win.
"Ready?" said Aoife in her loudest voice.
The gray cat spoke up, since I couldn't reply myself.
"Yes!" said the gray cat.
"On your marks!" said Aoife. "In t'ree, two, one... Ready, set, go!"
The bell rang, and we were off. The gray cat, and I headed straight into the hedge maze.
"You're going to lose," said the gray cat. "Why are you even bothering to try?"
"I'm not going to lose," I said. "Haven't you read the story of the tortoise and the hare?"
"I can't read," said the gray cat. "I'm a cat."
"Well, I can," I said, "and spoiler alert, the tortoise wins."
"That's a fantasy," said the gray cat. "The bad guys win, and everyone dies at the end!"
At this point, the gray cat, and I quickly went our separate ways. I ran around, going from
corner to corner, unsure what the best way to head was. Then I soon realized because of my size, I
could just crawl through the whole maze. Was it cheating? I suppose, but I did it anyway. Now this
became a matter of pure speed, going from one end to the other.
Nevertheless, I still worried. I knew the gray cat was making good progress, using its nose to
smell Aoife. Even though I didn't have ears, being an ant, I could hear the swishing, and moving of the
feline's furry body, rapidly moving from area to area, without even so much as producing a single drop
of sweat.
"I can't keep up," I lamented. "That cat is going to win. I'll have to think up a new plan."
So, I slowed down my pace, and began walking instead. I couldn't run, and think at the same
time.
"What to do?" I thought aloud.
Then I saw a little, brown bird trying to pull an earth worm out of the ground. I crawled onto
this bird, and bit him on the neck. He screamed, and let go of the worm, and flapped his wings.
The worm hastily went back in his hole.
"Thank goodness," I heard him saying.
And the brown bird took into the air, and spun, and screeched. I could barely hold on. I was
turning, and twisting. I felt dizzy. I nearly let go. I knew I couldn't. This was how I would win the
contest.
As luck would have it the brown bird was going in the direction I needed it to go, and it was
over the exit of the hedge maze. Aoife was down there. So, when I was as close as I thought I could be
to the ground, I let go of the brown bird, and dropped down. Being so light, the wind pushed against
me, and I was none too hurt, despite the drop being a a thousand times my length.
When the brown bird left the vicinity, I remarked, "Success!"
I had only a inches to travel, and I would be out of the hedge maze. I felt so confident that
victory was mine that I decided to leisurely walk, and take my time. I was very tired, so why rush?
As I was about to meet Aoife, the gray cat suddenly ran past me, and won the race.
God. Damn. It.
"I've done it!" said the gray cat. "I won!"
Aoife shook its paw.
"Congratulations," she said to the gray cat. "You've managed to do what every person in life is
trying to do, which is maintain a level of living that you're comfortable with."
Holding my head low, I came out the hedge maze a second later. Aoife saw me.
"Hello," I said to her in a dreary voice.
"Ah, sorry that you lost," said Aoife.
"It's okay," I said. "Cats should be with people, not ants. I'm just an ant. A stupid ant. I don't
belong with you."
"Eh, don't be so hard on yourself," said Aoife. "You certainly belong somewhere."
"Where?" I said. "I've never belonged anywhere."
"You can hang out with other ants," said Aoife.
"I don't want to hang out with other ants," I said.
"It appears you don't have a choice," said Aoife. "It's either that, or be alone."
"I'm okay with being alone," I said.
"No one should be okay with being alone," said Aoife. "We're all meant to connect with others.
Aren't we? What is a life without friends, and families, and people that love you?"
"Ha," I said. "Love. I'm afraid I don't know much about that particular topic. I've never felt
loved before. Who could ever love me like I want?"
"I love you," said Aoife.
"In a religious manner?" I asked. "Where you're obligated to love everyone, including your
enemies?"
"Ermmmm," said Aoife. "Well, it's the thought that counts."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't mean to be such a downer."
 "No worries," said Aoife. "I'm Irish. We Irish know what dark times are like. Ireland's been
through rough times, from its beginning up till...2 years ago! What a time to be alive!"
I sighed, and the next moment the gray cat came up to me.
"Hey," said the gray cat. "I just wanted to say, I hope there's no hard feelings."
"Nah," I said. "I don't care. This isn't too bad. I've been treated worse. Much, much worse."
"That's great," said the gray cat. "I mean, not that you've been treated worse. That there's no
hard feelings."
I started walking away.
"Where are you going?" said Aoife.
"I don't know," I said. "As usual, I'm lost. Philosophically speaking. And literally."
"Aw, no," said Aoife. She scooped me up with a leaf, and put me in her hand. "I'll take you
somewhere."

43.

Aoife, with her gray cat, placed me down on the grounds of a park that seemed to be in a state of
disrepair. Perfect for any ant, or animal on account of the destructive nature of humans.
"Here we are," she said. "You're free to go on your way. As you please."
I looked back at Aoife.
"I know that I didn't know you that long," I said, "but... I'll miss you."
"I won't forget you," said Aoife. "Actually, I probably will. I don't have the greatest of
memories."
"No one does," I said, "especially when it comes to me."
"Hey, hang in there," said the gray cat. "I'm sure you'll do alright for yourself."
"I'll try my best," I said. "But usually my best is not enough."
"You have to stop doing that," said Aoife. "Think of good things."
"I tried that," I said. "It did nothing. I'm still an ant."
"Yes," said Aoife, "but a well supplied ant."
"Ah, what's that?" I asked.
Aoife took out a bag of sugar, and dumped it onto a freshly cut lawn. To me it looked like a
mountain. I could see that the sugar was square.
"Now, you won't be hungry," said Aoife. "You can eat all the sugar you want."
"It's a lot of sugar," I said. "What happens when it rains?"
Aoife stared at me.
"Rain?" she said.
"Yeah, it's gonna rain," I said. "The rain will melt away all the sugar."
"No, it won't," said Aoife. "Not if you store it in your tiny, little, ant cave."
"Ants don't live in caves," said the gray cat.
"Ah, I know that," said Aoife. "But it's like a cave. Isn't it?"
I nodded.
"So," said Aoife, "all you have to do is store the sugar away in a dry place. That's all."
"I don't have a place," I said. "I'm homeless."
"Are ye' now?" said Aoife.
"Come to think of it," I said, "I've never had a place of my own. The price of real estate is too
damned high!"
"You're an ant," said Aoife. "You don't have to pay rent. All you hafta do is locate a colony, and
ask to chill."
"There is no chill an ant colony," I said.
"Well," said Aoife, "either way, I've done all I can do. You're on your own now, young ant."
 "I know," I said.
Aoife, and the gray cat told me goodbye, and I was left on my own. Immediately after, I saw
black clouds in the sky, and it began raining. All my sugar melted. Well, at least I'd be in no danger of
getting diabetes. Can ants get diabetes?

44.

The night went by, and the morning came, and then the afternoon... Because I was so tired, I had just
crashed under a long blade of grass, and fell asleep for ages. However, soon, I was awoken. I opened
my eyes, and saw a veritable army of ants. They were going back, and forth, in a line, gathering the
remnants of sugar that had naturally crystallized, and stuck around.
"What's going on?" I asked, still groggy.
Antonio stopped to answer my question. I didn't recognize him at first, but somehow he knew
exactly who I was.
"Hey," said Antonio. "You came back."
"Back? To what?" I said.
"Don't you remember me?" said Antonio. "We met a couple days ago."
"I don't know who you are," I said.
"I'm Antonio," said Antonio. "I asked why you weren't with the colony, and then you went off
on your own like an anti-social emo."
"Oh, yeah, I think I remember that," I said. "My memory isn't what it used to be. That, and
you're an ant. You all look the same."
"We do not all look the same," said Antonio. "Also, we don't recognize each other based on
looks. We recognize smells. You have a smell to you."
"No, you smell!" I said.
"No, I literally meant that," said Antonio. "You have a unique smell to you. That's how I
recognized you."
"Oh, okay," I said. "Sorry about being snippy with you."
"Ha," said Antonio, "you're not very good at being an ant are you?"
"I admit," I said, "I am not. I wasn't very good at being a human either. It's like, man, why is it
so hard to just exist?"
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you're an idiot?" said Antonio.
"It has," I said, "but what do I do with that knowledge? I'm too dumb to solve my own
problems. I'm like Homer Simpson."
"Who's Homer Simpson?" Antonio asked.
"He's a cartoon character on TV," I explained. "Big, fat, yellow guy. You know."
"I'm afraid I don't," said Antonio. "I don't watch TV. It rots the brain. Lots of things rot the
brain, actually. My brain is of great concern to me. I want to preserve it for as long as possible, before
the fungus takes over."
"Yeah, tell me about it," I said.
"So," said Antonio, "are you gonna join the colony, or what?"
"Why do you care about me joining your colony so much?" I said.
"I'm a nice ant," said Antonio. "That's all."
"Well," I said, "can you just invite any random person, I mean, ant into the colony?"
"No," said Antonio. "We don't have open borders. We're selective. This isn't the European
Union."
"Sooo, what about me is appealing?" I said.
"You make me laugh," said Antonio. "Ha-ha-ha! You think you're human!"
"But I am," I said.
 "Again with that!" Antonio laughed. "Ho-ho-ho! He-he-he! Ha-ha-ha!"
In spite of the laughter, I made the decision to join Antonio's colony. For I knew I was unable to
survive on my own.
"It's not my colony," said Antonio. "It's the Queen's colony."
"Right," I said. "I knew that. Of course. It's the Queen's colony."
"She's British," said Antonio.

45.

There was a mound of sand with a hole in the middle. Antonio led me into it, and we entered the ant
nest, where his colony resided. He gave me the grand tour. We went from area to area, looking about. It
was far bigger than I imagined. There were hundreds of levels, and thousands of pod-like rooms,
cleverly connected together by tunnels.
It seemed that there were a million ants here, whom I noted were mostly female. They were
busy walking up, and down these corridors, carrying items (especially food) back, and forth. It was so
well organized. Everything in here had a function. Even the rotting plant matter, as it was explained to
me, was used for creating heat, and air flow.
"What do you think?" said Antonio.
"Impressive," I said. "It's like a city."
"It's a monogyny," said Antonio.
"Meaning what?" I asked.
"We only have one queen," said Antonio. "Although there are other ant species that operate
under polygyny, meaning there are multiple queens. I hear that they have orgies in the air. How
disgusting is that? Call me old fashioned, but I'd rather just bang one queen."
"Wait," I said. "Let me get this straight. There's only one lady to bang here, and that's the
Queen?"
"Yeah," said Antonio. "It's a much better system."
"All the men," I slowly said, hoping for clarification, "only get to have sex with one
individual?"
"Yes, the Queen," said Antonio. "We all do the same dame."
"EW! GROSS!" I said. "I don't wanna give my body to a woman that's gonna been with... How
many guys?"
"A couple hundred," Antonio said in a matter of fact tone.
"Don't tell me you're participating in this?" I said.
"I dunno," said Antonio. "The queues are always nauseatingly long. I just don't have the
patience. Why? Are you gonna opt out?"
"Hell yeah, I'm gonna opt out," I said. "I can't imagine myself sharing a degenerate whore. I'm a
one-woman-man, you know. I'm like a swan."
"I thought you were a human," said Antonio.
"I am," I said. "I'm just using an analogy here."
"I get it," said Antonio. "So are you really not going to have sex with the queen?"
"No, thank you," I said.
"Wow," said Antonio. "It's like you're half an ant."
"How am I half an ant?" I asked in an angry tone.
"There are two things that ants do," said Antonio. "Have sex, and eat. If you're not having sex,
you're missing out on half of life."
"Sex isn't the most important thing in the world," I said. "Sure, you might enjoy it, but it can be
a very destructive force."
"How's that?" said Antonio.
 "What if you die?" I said. "What if you get AIDS?"
"Ants don't get AIDS," said Antonio. "But we have our own set of troubles, I think."
"Like what?" I said.
"Collecting food," said Antonio. He walked ahead of me, beckoning me to follow. "Come on,
let's get to work! Gas, ass, or grass! Nobody stays here for free !"
I didn't exactly know what he meant by that. But I followed, anyway.

46.

So many days went by. My time with the ant colony felt endless. It felt like I was living as a slave, yet
all the ants told me it was for the greater good. I didn't think the same. To me this was torture. I found
myself in a state of constant busyness. My body ached, and I was always tired. All we did was work,
eat, shit, drink, piss, and work some more. There was no room to do much of anything that I would
enjoy. I was alive but not living.
"This is madness," I told Antonio, whilst carrying a piece of neon green candy.
"Madness?" said Antonio. "THIS IS SPARTAAAAA!"
"Wait, wait a minute," I said. "Where did you learn that from?"
"Ohhh, um, nowhere," said Antonio. "Nowhere at all. Now, stop asking questions, and let's keep
on working. There are hundreds of thousand of ants up in here -- we all have to work as a team! Team
Ant!"
I sighed, "Yeah, alright then."
And we got back to work. The ants were collecting pieces of a shattered lollipop that had fallen
to the ground. Yes, it was neon green.

47.

While looking for the bathroom, in the ant nest, I noticed a long line of ants. Antonio was at the front,
waiting before the opening of a large pod-like room. It was the Queen's chamber. Of secrets? Maybe.
"Antonio," I said. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm not giving you my spot in line," said Antonio. "You'll have to go to the back like everyone
else. I got here first."
"I don't want your spot," I said. "I'm just curious."
"It's that time of the month," said Antonio.
"Which is?" I asked.
"We're going to reproduce," said Antonio. "With the Queen herself."
"Oh, God," I said. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," said Antonio. "I've been camping out here for three days. I'm the first in line... Can you
believe it?" He grinned at me.
"I believe it," I said.
"Are you going to mate with the queen?" Antonio asked.
"Like I said before," I said, "I am going to sit this one out."
"Why? Are you gay?" said a random ant nearby. He chuckled. "Huh-huh!"
"Fuck off," I said. "I'm not gay, and even if I was, so what? Are you homophobic?"
"A real bigot, huh?" said Antonio.
"N-no," said the random ant nearby. "I was only kidding. I'm sorry if I came off like a jerk, I --"
"Aaaaaaaah, we're just bustin' your chops!" I laughed. "Ha-ha!"
"You should've seen the look on your face!" said Antonio.
"Uh, right," said the random ant nearby. "I knew that. Heh. Good gag, you guys. Roflmao."
As Antonio waited to be the first to make "love" to the Queen, I heard her call out my name.
Everyone turned their heads to me.
"Why's everyone staring at me?" I said. "There must be a mistake."
No. The Queen called for me again.
"Come in here," said the Queen. "I must speak with you."
"Seriously?" said Antonio. "He gets to cut the queue?"
"This isn't my doing," I said. "I don't want to."
"NOW," said the Queen.
I looked at Antonio, hoping he could tell me what to do.
"I'm annoyed," said Antonio, "but I think you should do what she says."
So, reluctantly, I went past the bodyguards, four large male ants, and went into the Queen's
chamber. The chamber was the biggest room in the ant colony. Proportionally speaking it was the size
of a house.
"Not too shabby," I remarked.
"Please," said the Queen, "make yourself comfortable."
The Queen was on her bed, and she looked...svelte. How odd. I imagined that she would be this
big, fat, hippopotamus-like creature. But no, here she was, looking slim, and sexy. Um, well, that is to
say sexy for an ant.
"Hello, your majesty," I said. I went closer to her bed, but declined to sit. "What can I do for
you?"
"Call me Elizabeth," said the Queen in a most sultry voice.
"Okay, sure," I said. "H-how do you do, Elizabeth?"
"I've been noticing you a lot around the ant nest," said Elizabeth (i.e. the Queen).
"Erm, thanks," I replied. "Yeah, I have been working out lately."
"Mhmm, I've also noticed something else," said Elizabeth.
"What's that?" I said.
"You are no ordinary ant," said Elizabeth.
"In what way do you mean that?" I asked.
"You're weird," said Elizabeth. "Very weird."
"Not that weird," I said.
"No, you're a total weirdo," said Elizabeth. "You stick out like a vegan at a barbecue. Yes, you're
different. Different from all the others."
"What, what makes you say that?" I asked.
Elizabeth crawled closer to me, and stared me in my big, bulging, black eyes.
"You're a human," she said.
"What! What! What!" I exclaimed. "No, I'm not!"
"Yes, you are," said Elizabeth. "I can tell."
"Nope," I said. "I'm not a human. I'm 100% ant. I don't care what anyone says... Except the ants
that used to tease me, and call me a nut-bag for claiming to be human."
"So, that settles it then," said Elizabeth. "You are in fact human."
"How can I be a human?" I said. "I'm an ant. Look at me."
"The inside of you is human," said Elizabeth. "I can sense your spirit. You are of two spirits. But
not more than two. If it's more than two, you probably just have schizophrenia. Go the doctor, and get it
checked out."
"There's definitely not more than two spirits in me," I said. "Thank goodness for that."
Elizabeth got off her bed.
"Follow me," she said.
Huh? Elizabeth led me into what I can only describe as a closet made out of dirt, and we both
went inside to be secluded.
"Listen to me," said Elizabeth, whispering. "I have to tell you a deep, dark secret."
 "What is it?" I said. "Are you actually a termite?"
"No!" said Elizabeth. "Like you, I am also a human."
"What?" I said. "Get out of town."
"No, really," said Elizabeth. "I feel it in my body, and I keep having these vivid dreams about
being human. I think that I used to be a human in a former life."
"Past life, they call it," I said.
"Right," said Elizabeth. "I know that. It's reincarnation -- and I used to be a pretty girl, with
short, wavy, yellow hair, and soft white skin. And big boobies."
Even though I believed myself to be human, I was still skeptical about Elizabeth's claims. Big
boobies?
"Elizabeth," I said. "Not that I think you're lying to me, but I don't know if what you're telling
me is reality. I mean, I hardly believe my own thoughts. It might just be that we're both crazy, and
craziness combined is not really a good thing, is it?"
Elizabeth grabbed me. "Sometimes craziness is what we need."
"Alright then," I said, confused. "But what do you want from me?"
"Let's run away together," said Elizabeth.
"Are you serious?" I said.
"Just you, and me," said Elizabeth. "We can leave this place -- as a team."
"But the colony depends on you," I said. "You have to reproduce to keep everything going."
"Why?" said Elizabeth.
"Ummm, I actually never thought this one through," I said.
"Exactly," said Elizabeth. "What's so important about passing on our genetics? There are other
ants. There are at least 10 trillion of us. Who needs more? Why does the burden of giving birth have to
fall upon my shoulders? I didn't choose this. They chose me. I don't want to get pregnant, and become a
big, fat, baby producing lump, you know! It's not the life I want! I want to be free like a human bean!"
"Ha!" I laughed.
"Why are you laughing?" said Elizabeth.
"You really think you're free when you're a human?" I said.
Elizabeth nodded.
"It's not what you think," I said. "Not anything close. Being a human BEING is not a fun time,
unless you're one of the lucky few. For many people their existence is miserable. Being human means
getting hurt. It's a weakness. When somebody screws up, and makes a big mistake, what do they say?"
"I don't know," said Elizabeth.
"I'm only human!" I exclaimed.
"You sound butt hurt," said Elizabeth.
"You're a queen," I said. "You've been sheltered your whole life, literally treated like royalty.
You don't understand what it's like out there. It's a different world."
"I can't believe that," said Elizabeth, "unless I discover it for myself. So, don't stand in my way.
Join me instead, and let's be like humans together."
"I don't wanna be human!" I yelled. "It hurts to be human! It's full of failure, and
disappointment, and loss, and -- heartbreak! Lots of heartbreak! An endless amount of heartbreak! Is
that what you want? Do you wanna get your heart broken, Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth was silent for a moment, and then she sheepishly spoke up.
"Then break my heart," she said.
We started at each other for a moment, and suddenly we started making out. How? I don't know.
Actually, I wasn't even sure what was happening. Were we kissing? I'd never kissed anyone before,
much less an ant. All I knew was our faces were practically intertwined, and fluids were splashing
about, and it felt weirdly arousing. But I knew this was wrong.
"Stop, stop!" I said. "This isn't right!"
 "Why?" said Elizabeth. "Am I not attractive?"
"No," I said. "You're plenty attractive. For an ant."
Elizabeth gasped. "You're lying! I know it! You think I'm ugly, don't you? I'm ugly! I'm as ugly
as the day is long!"
"You're not ugly," I said.
"Really?" said Elizabeth. "Do you mean it?"
"Yeah, sure," I said. "Ummm, why not?"
"Then help me," said Elizabeth. "And let's run away as lovers. It can be you, and me, on the
road, living free, without any of these burdens, and responsibilities. Whether or not we're really
humans, who wants to live like ants? Why can't we break free? I beg you not to be afraid. Think about
all the possibilities, not what we might lose."
And so, I thought about my time in the ant colony, all the back breaking labor, and mind
numbing monotony. Is this really what I want? Will I be okay with my life, if I live, and die as an ant?
What is it that's out there that scares me? Why do I let safety, and comfort define who I am?
"OK," I said.
"OK what?" Elizabeth asked.
"OK, I'll do it," I said. "We'll run away from what we call home, and make a brand new life."

48.

We fled the ant colony. During the night, on a full moon, we snuck out of the nest, and went off on our
own. At first running away from the ant colony was exciting. Elizabeth, and I were two young ants,
headed out into the world for adventure, and mystery. Nothing, we felt, could stop us. Together we
were invincible.
We trekked up, and down the world, living off the land, and surviving on our wits. Rain, shine,
or snow, we stuck it out. However, after barely a day, Elizabeth got sick of it. She kept complaining
about everything: "Oh, why this? Why that? Why can't you do it yourself? I'm tired. I'm bored. This
isn't how it used to be when we were with the colony. This sucks!"
"Yeah, well, what did you expect?" I said. "Of course it sucks. You're not royalty out here.
Nobody is going to wipe your bottom, and feed you with a silver spoon for nothing. You have to work,
and worry -- about tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and next week, and next month, and next
year. Because that's the way life is when you don't have privilege. Your privilege! Check it! Check your
privilege, Elizabeth!"
"What, what does that even mean?!" Elizabeth said angrily. "Check my privilege? How do I
check my privilege? Is there an app for that?"
"I'm afraid not," I said.
"So, this is it?" said Elizabeth. "This is our life? We're just living, and surviving like bums?"
"Hey, don't make fun of bums," I said. "They put in their hours the same as anyone else."
"I hate this!" said Elizabeth.
"I know," I said, "but what can we do? This is what we've been given."
"Tell me," said Elizabeth, "will it get better?"
I shook my head. Elizabeth started crying. Even though she was kind of a spoiled brat, I
couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She went from being a queen to my girlfriend. I mean, talk about a
huge drop, holy fuck.
"There, there," I said. "I was only joking. Ha-ha! (Fake laughter.) You know me, I'm a silly ant.
I say silly things." I wiped away Elizabeth's tears. "C'mon. Don't be so glum. We've got each other.
Doesn't that count for something? And I am loyal to you to the death. I swear, I'll turn it around for us.
So, chin up. Have your pie in the sky dreams, because one day it's gonna happen. Your dreams will
come true. I promise."
 "Really?" said Elizabeth.
"Really," I said.
Elizabeth, and I hugged. It was sharp, and hurty, because of our bodies, but I did it anyway.

49.

The next day, we took a trip downtown. We went down the sidewalk, whilst avoiding being stepped on.
It was a bit stressful for Elizabeth, as I pulled her along, and said, "Over here! Over there! Watch out!
Oh, no, we're gonna die!"
But eventually we made it. We got past the numerous human feet that tried squashing us, and
arrived where I had planned to go all along: The candy shop.
"What is this place?" said Elizabeth, looking up.
"A candy shop," I said.
Elizabeth gazed at the candy shop, with eyes wide open. The candy shop smelled so sweet, and
delicious, we could see through the big windows it had all of its best sweets on display, which made
every color of the rainbow, and more.
"It's amazing," said Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was in awe. This was a fantasy come true for her. She was already salivating, and
shaking just from the thought of going in, and eating to her heart's content. I was glad that I could take
her here, because after all she was technically my first girlfriend, and my first kiss. Even though she
was an ant, she was the only woman who's ever said yes to me, and I cared for her more than I cared to
admit.
"How, how do we get in?" said Elizabeth.
"When someone comes out, we go in," I said. "Are you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," Elizabeth replied.
"This way," I said.
I led Elizabeth near but away from the door, and we stayed still in one spot so as to not be
noticed. We waited patiently, and then a fat, little boy left the candy shop with a bag. The door was
open. We ran inside the shop, and just barely made it in. We did it. The first part, anyway.
"Success!" said Elizabeth.
"Now, all we have to do is access the sweets," I said. "But first what do you want to eat?"
Elizabeth answered without any hesitation: "The chocolates!"
So accordingly we made our way over to the display case holding all the chocolates. We noticed
the owner there, and hoped he wouldn't notice us in return. We wanted to get right to the sweets, but we
didn't want to take any risks. If he saw us, he would kill us.
"Let's go," Elizabeth said impatiently.
"Not yet," I said. "We need the giant to leave."
"But I'm hungry now," said Elizabeth.
"Patience," I said. "Good things come to those who wait... Sometimes."
"I don't give a toss," said Elizabeth. "I'm going for it!"
Elizabeth started crawling up toward the chocolates.
"Wait!" I said.
I had no choice except to follow. Elizabeth, and I crawled up, and surprise, we got to the
chocolates. I figured being ants we weren't that easy to see against the dark colors of these chocolates,
and as well the owner appeared rather tired from the work day. He kept yawning, and even though he
had glasses they were hung around his neck with straps.
"Ah, yes," said Elizabeth, eyeing the numerous chocolates, "a meal fit for a queen. What shall I
try first?"
"It all looks, and smells so good," I remarked. "I guess anything would be good right about
now."
"This will be my first time tasting chocolate," said Elizabeth. "I don't want to pick the wrong
one."
"Really?" I said. "This is your first time eating chocolate? Hmm, how interesting."
"Why?" said Elizabeth. "Have you eaten chocolate before?"
"Yes," I said. "Many times, when I was a human. It was usually the cheap stuff though. The
chocolate I ate came in plastic wrappers, and contained butyric acid. So, nothing as fancy as this. Not
even close."
"Hmm, you know a lot about chocolates," said Elizabeth.
"Well," I said, "I used to be fat."
"Lucky," said Elizabeth.
"How's that lucky?" I said.
"Isn't being fat good?" said Elizabeth. "It means you're big, and strong, and you have access to
lots of food."
"Aaaah, Elizabeth," I said, "the human world isn't quite like the animal world. We aren't only
obsessed with the basic things in life like food, and sex. We're much more than that."
"Really?" said Elizabeth.
I thought for a moment...
"That doesn't matter," I said. "What matters is we're here, and there are chocolates, so let's dig
in!"
I bit into a chocolate. It was delicious. The most delicious thing I had ever eaten in my entire ant
life.
"What should I do?" said Elizabeth.
"Just eat whatever smells the best," I said.
Elizabeth then went up to a chocolate, and bit into it. Caramel started flowing out. She lapped it
up in ecstasy.
"Omigoodness," she said, while eating. "This is heaven!"
"Can't talk," I said. "Eating."
After what seemed several minutes, Elizabeth, and I were absolutely stuffed with sugar
chocolate. Neither of us could eat anymore.
"Oh, God," I said, "I think I'm done."
"I've never eaten so much in my entire life," said Elizabeth. "All these calories are going to my
six thighs."
"No matter how much you weigh," I said, "you'll always be beautiful to me."
"Aw, thanks," said Elizabeth, with a loud burp. "Urp! You're such a darling."
As I stared at Elizabeth, with melted chocolate on my mouth, I suddenly heard a loud voice.
"AGH! HOLY SHIT!" it said.
Elizabeth, and I's eyes turned up, and saw the owner of the candy shop staring down at us, with
his glasses on.
"ANTS!" exclaimed the shop owner.
Then he took a rolled up newspaper, and swung it down. Elizabeth, and I picked up our heels,
and split on the scene. We ran off the display case, and hastily made our way to the floor. We went as
fast as we could in the opposite direction of the shop owner. He tried stomping us, but I spotted a hole
in the wall, and pointed it out to Elizabeth.
"Over there!" I shouted.
The two of us escaped through the hole in the wall just as the shop owner's foot came down. It
was a very close call.

50.
Inside the wall of the candy shop, Elizabeth, and I stopped for a respite. The owner of the candy shop
now seemed disinterested in us -- that or he didn't think he could get to us, so why even bother?
"Bloody hell," said Elizabeth. "Could we have cut it any closer?"
"We almost died back there," I said.
"But it was worth it," Elizabeth grinned. "Wasn't it?"
"I dunno," I said. "I wouldn't go back for a second try."
"I feel so alive," said Elizabeth. "My heart is pumping. What an incredible feeling."
"Oh no," I said.
"Why 'oh no,'?" said Elizabeth.
"I think I know what this is," I said. "You're an adrenaline junkie."
"What's that?" said Elizabeth.
"It means you get excited by adventure...and danger," I said. "I wish I knew earlier. I'm not that
type of guy."
"What type of guy are you then?" Elizabeth asked.
"I like eating milk toast for breakfast," I said.
"And?" said Elizabeth.
"Let's just say milk toast isn't considered to be a manly type of food," I said.
"Hmm," said Elizabeth, "you are ever the mystery."
"It's just an old human thing," I said. "I'm not like that anymore. I've left behind my past now.
Strangely, I thought being an ant would totally blow, but here I am living a pretty happy life. Maybe not
happy, but I'm not as miserable as I once was. I mean, I have a girlfriend, I've never had a girlfriend
before."
"Yep," said Elizabeth, "I remember being a human. Well, that is to say I remember my dreams,
which I think are memories of my past life."
"You never told me much about it," I said. "What were you like?"
"I was pretty," said Elizabeth. "Really popular with the fellas. It's hard to remember, but it
seemed when I was alive people always wanted my attention. Although deep inside I was sad, and
lonely."
"What was your name back then?" I asked.
"Marilyn Monroe," said Elizabeth.
"Wut?" I said. "Are you serious?"
"Of course," said Elizabeth. "Why are you questioning me?"
"Marilyn Monroe is kind of an icon," I said.
"In the human world?" Elizabeth asked.
"Everywhere," I said.
"Wow," said Elizabeth. "So, does that mean I used to be famous?"
"If you were indeed Marilyn Monroe," I said, "then yes. You were very, very famous."
"Hmm, kinda makes me sad," said Elizabeth. "Fame isn't really as great as people think."
"What makes you say that?" I asked.
"Have you forgotten?" said Elizabeth. "I used to be a queen."
"Ah, sorry," I said. "After spending so much time with you, I just see you as Elizabeth now."
"It's okay," said Elizabeth. "That's what I want."
"Should we make out now?" I asked.
"Nnnnno," said Elizabeth. "I'm not in the mood. I'm full of chocolate. I'm like 50% chocolate
right now."
"Is that even possible?" I said.
Elizabeth shrugged.
As we waited for the coast to be cleared, we felt someone, or something breathing behind us.
We slowly turned around, at the same time, and saw a rat. A big, fat rat, with glowing eyes.
"Hello," said Ratty. "What are you doing in my home?"
"Run!" I yelled.
Elizabeth, and I tried making a run for it, but Ratty grabbed us with his ratty paws, and held us
in place.
"Excuse me," said Ratty. "Why --"
"Let go of us! You big bully!" said Elizabeth.
"If I was larger, I'd totally kick your arse!" I exclaimed.
"This isn't a fair fight, and you know it!" Elizabeth continued.
"Your face looks like a Japanese city after being nuked!" I said.
"I am the queen of a powerful ant colony!" Elizabeth declared. "You will pay the price for
mishandling me! We royalty are far more powerful than you know!"
"I, I am the son of the devil!" I screamed. "Unseize me, otherwise --"
"SHUT UP!" said Ratty. "God! What is wrong with you two? I'm not going to hurt anyone. But
you happen to be in my home, so I want some answers." Ratty gently placed us down. "What're you
doing here?"
Elizabeth, and I calmed down.
"We came for the sweets," said Elizabeth.
"We only wanted a nibble of some chocolates," I said. "That's all. We're not bad people. In fact,
we're not people at all."
"Oh, Lord," said Ratty. "How long will you guys be staying here?"
"We were just about to leave," said Elizabeth. "We were waiting for the right time is all. It's
dangerous out there."
"Okay, so this is it?" said Ratty. "It's only the two of you?"
"Yes," I said. "Why do you ask?"
Ratty wiped his brow, and went whew.
"Last time there was a bug infestation," said Ratty. "I let one of them in, and the whole gang
came along. They totally took over this place. There were thousands of them, and they took whatever
they could get their greedy hands on."
"Well, don't worry about us," I said. "We broke off from our colony. We're independent ants. It's
just me, and my girlfriend, Elizabeth."
"Oh," said Ratty. "I thought you were both dudes."
"We're not both dudes," said Elizabeth.
"At any rate," said Ratty, "I'm glad it's only the two of yous. You know, ants are usually group
oriented. I figured, where there is one there is many. I know...! I know, I know. I'm a selfish rat. Hey,
listen. I want to help others, but unfortunately reality doesn't always match your ideals. Sooo, when
there's a problem you gotta nip it in the bud at the very start. You gotta be strict, 'specially about who
you let into your home. Right? I mean, if you don't, forget about it. You're gonna be up to your neck in
trouble."
"We get it," I said. "We're interlopers. I don't begrudge you for your attitude."
"Thanks," said Ratty. "When I was kickin' out all those bugs they told me I was anti-bug. I'm
not anti-bug. I'm anti-two-million-bugs, if you catch my drift."
"I make no judgments about your lifestyle choices," said Elizabeth. "You seem like a good rat."
"I am a good rat," said Ratty. "Thanks for the compliment. And, hey, right back at yah. The both
of yous seem like pretty swell ants yourself."
"Well, we did just eat a bunch of chocolate," said Elizabeth.
"OK," I said. I glanced outside, and saw no one was there. "We should be going now."
Elizabeth, and I began to leave.
"Wait," said Ratty. "Why don't you stay?"
51.

Living in the candy shop seemed to be the perfect life for us. I didn't tell Ratty this, but I actually had a
fear of rats when I first met him. The first time I spoke to him, I was trembling, and my heart was
pounding. However, I kept on a brave face for Elizabeth. Eventually of course I got used to it.
Whenever I saw Ratty, which was often, we would smile at each other, and exchange pleasantries.
It was great. There wasn't much to this life, and that's the way I liked it. All we had to do was be
companions to Ratty, who had us around purely to fight off loneliness.
I really liked Ratty a great deal, and even saw a bit of me in him. He was someone, who felt
lost, and didn't feel that he belonged anywhere...until now. He told me his origin story, which was that
he had run away from his family after feeling neglected. He was one of thirty children, and considered
to be the black sheep of the family, being interested in things like the arts, and tea, and not having a
taste for cheese.
He was a bit odd, yet we bonded on what we had in common, and we would tell stories, and
laugh at jokes.
Elizabeth was reluctant at first, but seemed to be getting more comfortable with him as time
passed by. Even though this was not her ideal scenario there were no feelings of hopelessness, and
constant unfulfilled desires.
The candy shop provided everything. We lived within its walls, and came out whenever we
needed something, whether it was food, or drink. We established a home with our rodent friend, and
lived in peace, and quiet. It was a sanctuary, having all the amenities that an ant could ever want.
Today, we sat around sharing a marshmallow.
"How is it?" said Ratty.
"If pillow were food, they would taste as this," said Elizabeth.
"And you?" Ratty said to me.
"Delicious," I said. "May I have some more?"
"MORE?" said Ratty. "MORE?! YOU WANT SOME MORE?!"
"Yes," I said.
"Sure, go ahead," said Ratty. "Help yourself."
So, I ate more of the one marshmallow that was approximately 116 times my weight. Meaning,
I could have my fill.
"Mmm," I said. "Mmmmmmmmuffins."
"Why did you say that?" said Elizabeth.
"I dunno," I said. "It just popped into my head. Maybe a memory of being human. But my
memories about being a human are fuzzy. The more days that go by, the more I forget. I still don't even
know what my name used to be."
"What do you remember?" said Elizabeth.
I thought for a moment, trying to remember.
"Well," I said, "I remember wanting to be a writer...? And I had a family...? A brother, and sister,
and a mom, and a dad...? There was someone else, too. Someone that I had strong feelings for.
Someone that I really loved. I don't remember who she is though. Sometimes she appears in my
dreams, but I can only feel her. I can't see her face. It's blank."
"Wait, if you can't see her," said Ratty, "are you sure this person is a girl?"
"Right," I said. "I just assumed."
"Maybe you were a homosexual," said Elizabeth. "What do you think about hot dogs?"
"I've never eaten a hot dog," I said.
"What!" said Ratty. "Bullshit! What type of person doesn't eat a hot dog?"
"Lots of people don't eat hot dogs," I said. "Vegetarians, vegans, Jews, Muslims. The list goes
on. Wait, no, I think that's pretty much it."
"Either way," said Elizabeth, "I don't want you thinking about other girls, okay?"
"It's okay," I said. "Nothing happened with me, and my dream girl. In my dreams she always
breaks my heart. But not like a normal heart breaking. She literally shatters it into a million pieces, with
a sledgehammer."
"Can you really call it literal, if it happened in a dream?" said Elizabeth.
"Well, I mean, yeah," I said. "It literally happened in the dream. As in she shattered my heart
with a sledgehammer."
"I know," said Elizabeth, "but it's a dream. It didn't happen. It's not literal."
"Within the context it's literal," I said.
"Yes, context," said Ratty. "That's the most important thing when communicating effectively,
and clearly. For example: 'Man drinks his own piss.' Disgusting, right? But 'Man drinks his own piss in
desert.' Still disgusting, but you get why he did it. Then there's 'Man drinks his own piss in desert for
TV show.' That's just like what in the fuck? Is dignity even a thing in the entertainment industry?!"
"No," I said. "No, it's not."
At this moment, me, Elizabeth, and Ratty heard a noise. It was like a rapid scratching on wood.
We turned our heads, and saw something moving in the shadows.
"What is that?" said Elizabeth.
"I don't know," I said. "Go check it out, Ratty."
"Me? Why me?" said Ratty. "You do it. Pound for pound, aren't you stronger than me?"
"Ahhh, fine," I said, "I'll see who it is."
I left my spot, and went to confront the stranger in the candy shop.

52.

In the wall of the candy shop, with Elizabeth, and Ratty in the safe distance, I walked over to the
unwanted visitor in our home. His face was obscured, and I could only see a shadow.
"Hello?" I said. "Who's there?"
And I heard that scratching noise again. As I was going to back away, he jumped out at me, and
got on top of me! I screamed...and started laughing. What the hell? He was tickling me. Elizabeth, and
Ratty came to see what was happening.
I kept laughing.
"Stop," I said, "make it stop! Ah-ha-ha-ha!"
The creature from the shadows got off me, and giggled. I got onto my legs, and stared at him. It
was a juvenile cockroach.
"A cockroach," said Ratty.
The cockroach introduced herself.
"Howdy," said Lauren the cockroach. "I'm a girl, by the way."
"My mistake," I said.
"My name's Lauren," said Lauren.
"Nice to meet you," said Elizabeth.
"Likewise," said Lauren. "Thank you for --"
All of a sudden Ratty grabbed Lauren, and started squeezing her with ill intent.
"What are you doing?!" said Elizabeth.
"I have to kill her," said Ratty, "otherwise the rest of her family is comin' fer us!"
"Don't do it, Ratty!" I yelled.
"You'll thank me later," said Ratty. "Trust me. These cockroaches don't know the meaning of
'no.' They're nothing but vermin."
"Please!" said Lauren, being squeezed. "Mercy on my soul!"
 No matter what we told Ratty he wouldn't stop. We could see Lauren the cockroach was going
to die. Not knowing what else to do, Elizabeth, and I attacked our friend. We crawled on Ratty, and bit
into his arms as hard as we could.
Ratty shrieked, "You bastards!"
He threw Lauren, and then in anger spun around, and swung us off his arms.
Now, we laid to the side, with our cockroach visitor. Ratty stared at us. His eyes were furious.
Walking heavily, he came closer.
"Easy now," I said. "We, we just didn't want you to do anything you'd regret...!"
"So, this is really want you want?" said Ratty.
"What do you mean?" said Elizabeth.
"You want this filthy creature, this ugly cockroach to live with you?" said Ratty.
"She looks lost, and scared, and, and hungry," said Elizabeth. "We should help her."
"Yeah, helping others is what life's all about, right?" I asked.
"I don't want her here!" said Ratty.
"Please," said Lauren. "I won't do you no harm."
"Ye' that's what all them roaches say," said Ratty. "But they're liars."
"Don't generalize," said Elizabeth. "Not all of them are liars."
"Yeah, the dead ones don't lie," said Ratty.
Elizabeth gasped.
"Never mind!" said Lauren. "I'll leave!"
Lauren started leaving. Elizabeth, and I stopped her.
"Wait," said Elizabeth. "You don't have to go. This isn't really Ratty's home. It belongs to us
all."
"What?" said Ratty. "No, it doesn't. I was here first."
We turned to Ratty, trying to reason with him.
"You know that's not fair," said Elizabeth.
"Fair? FAIR?" said Ratty. "Life isn't fair. That's life lesson #1!"
"We can make it fair," said Elizabeth.
"How?" said Ratty.
"Through democracy," said Elizabeth.
Ratty scratched his head. "Dee. Mock. Raw. See...?"
"It's a system in which everyone is considered equal," said Elizabeth.
"And in practice," I added, "it doesn't actually work. But everyone gets to feel like they were all
dealt the same hand. That's the beauty of it."
"What? No," said Elizabeth.
"No?" I said.
"Democracy works," said Elizabeth. "It gives people what they want. The only problem is
people don't really know what they want. They say they want someone honest, and then when they get
an honest politician, they punish him for telling the truth."
"Because the truth hurts," I said.
"I know," said Elizabeth.
Ratty started getting angry again.
"WHAT'S YOUR POINT?!" he yelled.
"My point is," said Elizabeth. "We're gonna do this like a democracy. We'll put the issue of
Lauren staying here to a vote. If the majority wins she stays. What do you think, Ratty?"
"Do I get to vote?" Ratty asked.
"Of course," said Elizabeth.
"Then I'll give it a try," said Ratty.
"Begin the voting!" said Elizabeth. "Who here is in favor of Lauren the cockroach staying with
us? Raise your hand."
So, me, Elizabeth, and Lauren raised our hands. Of course, Ratty kept his down.
"That settles it," said Elizabeth. "It's three against one in favor of Lauren. Ratty, that means she's
staying."
"But this isn't what I wanted," said Ratty.
"It's a democracy," said Elizabeth. "The majority rules."
Ratty hissed, "If she stays I'm going!"
"Then go," said Elizabeth.
"You don't care that I'm leaving?" said Ratty.
"You're being unreasonable," said Elizabeth. "I don't like those who are unreasonable."
"Fine," said Ratty. "I'm going. Just remember that I warned yah! Cockroaches are not to be
trusted!"
Ratty turned around, and ran in the opposite direction.
"Wait!" I said.
Ratty never returned. He permanently left the candy shop. Now it was just me, Elizabeth, and
our new cockroach friend named Lauren.
"Maaan," I said, "I'm gonna miss him."
"I'm sorry I chased away your friend," said Lauren.
"Forget him," said Elizabeth. "He's not needed. He's stupid."
"He isn't stupid," I said.
"He has the IQ of a DJ," said Elizabeth.
"Whoa," I said. "Calling him stupid is one thing, but implying that he's retarded -- that's just
low."
"You're right," said Elizabeth. "I was being crass. I apologize."
"Wait," said Lauren. "What's wrong with DJs? DJs are cool, right?"
"They're not cool," I said. "Do you know what a DJ is?"
"A disc jockey?" Lauren replied.
I yelled at Lauren, "A DJ IS A GLORIFIED PLAYLIST, LAUREN! You can literally replace a
DJ with a free computer program! Why do they even exist?!?"
"I...don't know," said Lauren.

53.

Ratty was right. Lauren wasn't a cockroach of her word. At first she said it was just going to be her, and
then she asked to bring in her sister, and then her brother, and then her mother, and her father, and her
grandfather, and her grandmother, and uncle, and aunt, and anyone that was remotely related to her.
Soon the candy shop became infested with cockroaches. There were thousands of them, if not millions.
They were ravenous, and unstoppable. They ate everything in sight. They didn't want to save anything
for tomorrow.
All these cockroaches chased away the customers, and, finally, after only a week, and a half, the
candy shop shut down. The doors were closed, the lights were turned off, and no one was here, but me,
Elizabeth, and the roaches.
And they were getting anxious as they supply of sweets had run out. They became contentious,
and began fighting with one another. Because they were hungry. Sealed inside the candy shop none of
us could leave to find sustenance.
Tonight, I hid with Elizabeth in a crevice. The cockroaches (which included Lauren) were
gathered around for some type of meeting. They were fidgety, and could hardly stay in place. The
biggest cockroach, whose name was Jim stood above them all.
"Listen up," Jim said in a Southern drawl. "We have a serious issue here. Food has run out, and
all of us are very, very hungry... Yet for some reason some of us won't stop having babies!"
Jim stared into the crowd of cockroaches. They seemed nervous.
"That said," Jim continued, "it means we will all have to make sacrifices. Literal sacrifices."
"Literal sacrifices?" said Lauren. "What do you mean by that?"
Jim explained, "Every hour of every day, one of us will be eaten."
The cockroaches gasped.
"But don't worry," said Jim. "It will be a lottery process. You all know how hard it is to win the
lottery, right?"
Everyone nodded.
"Welp," said Jim, "that means you won't have to worry so much, because the chances you'll be
picked is low. Now, everyone, do you remember those numbers I gave you?"
The cockroaches nodded, and looked at their marked slips of paper, which were made from old
chocolate wrappers.
"I'm going to pick a random number, and if it matches what's on your paper," said Jim, "you win
the prize -- of being eaten. But don't fret, it is considered an honor to be chosen, and I can guarantee
that when you die, you will without a doubt go to heaven."
"Heaven or not," said Lauren, "I don't like this."
"Excuse me," said Jim. "You were the ones who voted me the president of this candy shop. My
word is now law."
"You might be the president, but your word isn't law," said Lauren.
"Lauren," said Jim, "in spite of your protest this is the system. Everyone is a part of it. Even
myself. Ergo, this is 100% fair."
Jim showed his piece of paper.
"Satisfied?" said Jim."Good. Then let us proceed. Mr Mungus, will you come up here to pick
the number?"
Mr Mungus the cockroach went up to a box, with a hole on top, and pulled out a ball that had a
number on it.
He announced the number: "89!"
"Turn out your papers," said Jim. "Let's see them."
All the cockroaches showed their numbered papers, except for Lauren. So, Jim went over to her.
"Lauren," said Jim. "May we see your number?"
"N-n-no," said Lauren, her voice trembling. "I'm not in the mood."
"Not in the mood?" said Jim. "Lauren, my dear, I'm afraid you have no choice. Show it, or
suffer the consequences at my mighty hand. I shall smack a bitch, if required."
So, Lauren showed her number. It was 89. Her face sunk, knowing she was chosen for the
lottery.
"Lucky 89!" said Jim. "It seems you have been chosen!"
The surrounding cockroaches began approach Lauren, who was shaking in fear.
"I can't take this anymore," I said.
"Where are you going?" said Elizabeth.
I came out from my crevice, and approached the crowd.
"STOP!" I said, shouting as loud as I could.
Everyone looked at me.
"This isn't right," I said, "and you know it! You can't just eat your fellow cockroaches like this!
It's madness!"
"But we're hungry!" one said.
"Hungry or not," I said, "we must all work together to find a peaceful solution. Eating each
other won't solve our problems in the long run. We must come together as a team. To quote Barack
Obama: HOPE! HOPE AND CHANGE!"
 "Who's Barack Obama?" said another cockroach.
The cockroaches got closer to Lauren.
"Wait!" I said, holding back the crowd for a moment. "Something about this lottery isn't right."
"What ever do you mean?" said Jim.
"To quote Donald Trump," I said. "This shit is rigged!"
I went to the box containing the numbered balls, and opened it. I dumped out the balls, showing
that all the numbers were the same. They were all marked 89.
"Look!" I said. "All the numbers are the same! My suspicions were correct! Well, well, well,
President Jim, what do you have to say for yourself?"
Jim grinned at me. "You are mistaken. The numbered papers I handed out were random. The
balls were always meant to have the same numbers. You see, I reversed the idea of the lottery, so as to
fool others, and to ensure no one could rig the system. Clever, isn't it?"
"You're a liar," I said.
"I am most certainly not a liar," said Jim. "You are just bitter that I am smarter than you. But of
course I was voted in as president for my supreme intelligence. My constituents call me the Elon Musk
of cockroaches."
"They do not call you Elon Musk," I said.
"They do too!" said Jim.
"Too right!" a cockroach from the crowd added.
"Now," said Jim, "let the feast begin!"
I stood in front of Lauren.
"Stay away from her!" I said. "Lest, I unleash my fury."
My words fell on deaf ears, especially considering that cockroaches don't have ears, and they
shoved me out of the way, and attacked Lauren. Lauren struggled to no avail. She was grabbed, and
torn from all angles, like she was a fish in a circle of sharks. All the cockroaches, even the ones she
called family, feasted on her flesh. The screams were agonizing, but I couldn't do anything to stop it. I
was outnumbered it seemed a million to one.
"Lauren!" I cried. "Poor Lauren..."

54.

The next day, Lauren, and I continued to stay in hiding. However, every time it seemed we would be
found, and we would have to move, going from place to place. In the candy shop, nowhere was truly
safe. The cockroaches were disturbed, hungry, and unruly.
When we had some peace, I lamented to Lauren, "How did we let it come to this?"
"It's all my fault," said Lauren.
"I know," I said. "How could you be so ignorant?"
"I was being self-deprecating," said Lauren. "You're not supposed to agree with me!"
"I'm sorry," I said, "I don't like following illogical social norms."
"You know why this happened?" said Lauren. "It's the government's fault. It's putrid from the
bottom all the way to the top."
"Power attracts the corrupt," I said. "Where there is power, there will be those wanting that
power, but the ones who crave power are not who we need to be in power. Yet we let in in the wolves.
We let the wolves manage the flock, because we believed their ferocity, and aggression would protect
us... We were dead wrong."
"In other words," said Elizabeth. "We did this to ourselves."
"Well, we can always blame religion instead," I said. "Do you want to be blame religion?"
"Nah," said Elizabeth. "I'm going to leave Buddha out of it this time."
I shook my head.
 "Elizabeth, if we stay here any longer," I said, "we're going to die. We need a plan of escape."
"The whole candy shop's locked up," said Elizabeth.
"We have to look again," I said. "There has to be a route of escape somewhere. I mean, none of
this really adds up."
"How's that?" said Elizabeth.
"Even at one cockroach being eaten an hour," I said, "that isn't enough to sustain everyone. How
is it that so many cockroaches are still alive, and healthy? There must be a source of food coming from
somewhere else. Probably the outside."
"Brilliant observation," said Elizabeth. "So, all we have to do is find out how they're shipping
food in, and out, and then we can find our exit."
"Exactly," I said.
"So," said Elizabeth, "when we do we begin our search?"
"Right now," I said.

55.

Elizabeth, and I went through the candy shop, searching high, and low for a way to leave. We snuck
into the kitchen, and spied on Jim, and his cronies hanging out in a corner eating sweets.
"Welp, that's the last of it," said Jim, taking a bite into a Turkish delight. "The stash of sweets
we hid away from everyone is now gone."
"So, how will we get more food?" said Jim's crony. "We're stuck in here, without a way to
leave."
"Do you like the taste of cockroach?" said Jim.
"Disgusting," said Jim's crony.
"Welp," said Jim, "I don't mind at all."
And then Jim's crony was attacked by Jim, and all his other cronies, and eaten alive.
"Holy crap!" said Elizabeth.
"Shhh!" I said.
Jim, and his cronies stopped, and turned their heads upon hearing us.
"Who's there?!" said Jim. "Come out, or we will attack you!"
"Run!" I said to Elizabeth.
We crawled up the leg of a kitchen table, and stayed in the center of its surface. The
cockroaches, thankfully, were not as good at climbing as us. They just scurried around, looking for us
on the ground.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" said Jim.
Jim, and his crony cockroaches searched some more, but when a few minutes went by they gave
up.
"No one's here," said Jim's crony that wasn't eaten. "Let's just go."
"Don't you tell me what to do," said Jim. "I make the rule around here... Alright, boys, let's go."
And with that, Jim, and the cockroaches left the kitchen. Elizabeth, and I let out a sigh of relief.
"Whew," I said. "That was close."
"Too close," I said.
"And what the hell is that thing behind you?" said Elizabeth.
I turned around, and saw something large, rectangular, and black. It was a cellphone. I was
relieved. For a second, I thought it was a robot cock.
"Whoa," I said, "I think it's a cellphone. The owner of the candy shop must've left it behind in
his panic."
"What's a cellphone?" said Elizabeth.
"It's a phone," I said. "But mobile."
 "What's a phone?" said Elizabeth. "And how can it be mobile?"
I sighed. "A phone is a personal communication device that people use. If two people have
them, then they --"
"Ahhh, I was just pulling yer leg!" said Elizabeth with a laugh. "I know what it is. I've seen
them being used in the park."
"Well, good," I said, "because then you can help me with my new plan that I just thought of."
"New plan?" said Elizabeth.
"I'm going to use the phone, and call the fire department," I said. "They'll come in here, and
kick down the door, and then we can escape."
"Brilliant," said Elizabeth, "but how will we talk to them?"
"I don't know," I said with a frown.
"Don't humans communicate with writing?" said Elizabeth. "Why not write them?"
"Whoa, shhhnap!" I said. "You're right! I forgot! You can send emergency text messages. Oh,
Elizabeth; you are as smart as you are beautiful."
"Thanks," said Elizabeth. "By the way, when you exclaimed 'shhhnap' did you really want to
say 'shit' but didn't because you didn't wanna swear in front of me? You can if you want. I don't care if
you say shit. I mean, shit, do what you want."
"I was trying to be humorous," I said. "Now, c'mon, let's get onto this cellphone, and send a text
message to the F.D."
Elizabeth, and I climbed onto the cellphone, and got on top of it. Thankfully, the screen was
facing up. We only needed to press the button at the bottom to turn it on.
"How do we turn it on?" said Elizabeth.
"We have to press the button at the bottom," I said.
Elizabeth, and I stepped on the button at the bottom of the cellphone. It did nothing.
"We're too light," said Elizabeth.
I looked around, and saw some toothpicks on the table.
"There!" I said. "We can get those toothpicks to make us weigh heavier!"
Elizabeth, and I picked up as many toothpicks as we could hold, and went back on top of the
cellphone. We stepped on the power button. Yet it seemed we were still too light.
"We gotta put the toothpicks perfectly above our heads," I said. "We can't let the ends rest on the
surface."
So, accordingly, Elizabeth, and I lifted the toothpicks up, so we took on all the weight. As we
groaned, from the struggle, we depressed the button on the cellphone. The cellphone turned on!
"It worked!" I exclaimed.
We put down the toothpicks.
"Now what?" said Elizabeth.
"Stay here a moment," I said.
I carefully went onto the touchscreen of the cellphone, and ran across it as fast I could to
simulate a swiping. Then I got onto a square, an icon for a messaging app, and I opened it up. I
beckoned Elizabeth for help to write the message to the fire department. The screen was so large that
the both of us were needed.
We went back, and forth, gingerly stepping on each letter. After a few minutes we typed
something like: "SOS! Fire! Send help to Candy Shop! LOL!"
Finally, we sent off the message...after deleting the "LOL!" Elizabeth didn't know it's meaning.
She thought it was a closing remark that people would send in messages. Either way, we got the job
done. All we would have to do now is wait.
"And now we play the waiting game," I said.

56.
Elizabeth, and I gathered by the door of the candy shop. We stayed low, and kept to ourselves, trying
not to attract attention. We were waiting for the fire department to arrive, based on our fake text
message saying there was a fire.
"HEY!" said Eddie the cockroach in a very loud voice. "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING
THERE? JUST HANGING OUT? DOING STUFF? I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT'S GOING ON."
Eddie was a well meaning but naturally loud individual. If he was a writer his keyboard would
be permanently stuck on caps lock.
"Uh, yeah," I said, "could you keep it down, Eddie?"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" said Eddie. "YOU THINK I'M LOUD? I'M NOT LOUD, AM I
ELIZABETH? AM I HURTING YOUR EARDRUMS?"
"Yes, I would prefer it if you lowered your voice," said Elizabeth.
"AWWW," said Eddie. "I HAD NO IDEA I WAS SOOOO LOUD. I MUST BE SOOOO
ANNOYING."
"You're not annoying," I said, gritting my teeth in a manner of speaking. "It's just that Elizabeth,
and I are trying to have some quiet time together. Alone. That's all."
"AWWW," said Eddie. "HOW ROMANTIC. YOU ANTS ARE SOOOO CUUUTE! OKAY,
I'LL KEEP MY VOICE DOWN. HOW'S THIS? IS IT QUIET ENOUGH?"
"Well, at least you're trying," said Elizabeth.
"Eddie," I said, "can you leave us alone for a minute?"
"BUT WAIT," said Eddie. "I HAVE TO TELL YOU ABOUT MYSELF FIRST. I DON'T LIKE
THE IDEA OF BEING FORGOTTEN. IF YOU ARE FORGOTTEN YOU ARE NOT ALIVE IN
SOMEONE'S MIND. TO STAY ALIVE YOU MUST BE REMEMBERED. LET ME TELL YOU
ABOUT MYSELF. A SHORT BIOGRAPHY. I GREW UP IN CHINA. DID YOU KNOW THAT?
KNEE HOW? HONK! HONK! IS ANYONE LISTENING? I'M TECHICALLY CHINESE EVEN
THOUGH I'M THE SAME SPECIES AS THE OTHERS. IT GIVES ME A FRESH PERSPECTIVE
THAT I DON'T THINK ANYONE CAN MATCH! HEYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! HA-HA-HA! I
JUST THOUGHT OF A FUNNY JOKE! KNOCK! KNOCK! WHO'S THERE? ROACH? ROACH
WHO? COCKROACH! WHOA! HA-HA! SHE SHE KNEE! BINGO AH!"
"What, what are you talking about?" I said.
"JUST ROLLING WITH THE PUNCHES," said Eddie. "SO MANY PUNCHES TO BE
ROLLED! SLIP AND DUCK AND SLIDE AND MOVE! THAT'S HOW THEY DO IT IN CHINA!
YOU MUST BE LOUDER THAN THE BARKING DOGS, LEST YOU BE DROWNED OUT BY
THE DOGS! THAT IS AN OLD CONFUSCIOUS SAYING!"
"Goodbye, Eddie," said Elizabeth.
"SOWWY ABOUT EVERYTHING!" said Eddie. "YEAH! I'M GOING! SO LONG! SEE YAH
LATER! BYE! GOOOOOD BYE! FAIRWELL! GOOD BYE SOME MORE! TILL NEXT TIME!
T.N.T!"
And with that Eddie left.
"Holy shit," I said. "I hate that guy. He doesn't even know that he's being loud. His quiet voice is
my loud voice. He has to be the stupidest creature I've ever met."
"Eh, I've met stupider," said Elizabeth.
"Fine, be stupid," I said, "but at least be quiet."
"Not possible," said Elizabeth. "Loudness is directly related to intelligence. The louder someone
is the stupider they are. Have you ever met a smart loud person?"
"Hmm, no I haven't," I said.
"There you go," said Elizabeth.
"Man, still hate that Eddie though," I said. "If it was my birthday, I'd wish for him to die. Like
right now."
 "Don't say that," said Elizabeth. "It's bad luck."
"The bad luck's already happened," I said. "We're stuck in an empty candy shop with
cockroaches. It literally can't get any worse."

We heard the roar of the fire engine coming down the street. We could feel its rumble, and smell the hot
fumes from its diesel engine. A fireman named Bob stopped in front of the candy shop, and looked
through the window.
"It doesn't look like there's any fire," said Fireman Bob.
"Check inside!" said Fireman Carl.
Fireman Bob, who was holding an axe, grabbed the doorknob to the candy shop, and opened the
door.
"Now!" I said to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth, and I ran outside, unnoticed by anyone.
"Yippee!" said Elizabeth. "We made it! Let's go home now!"
"Wait," I said, "let's see what happens."
"Do we hafta?" said Elizabeth.
"We won't be here long," I said.
"OK," Elizabeth said with a groan, and we stayed nearby to watch.
Fireman Bob took one step inside the candy shop, and jumped back, seeing all of the
cockroaches. He was so frightened in fact that he had dropped his axe, and left it behind. Not that far
behind, but nonetheless he still left it behind.
"Holy shit!" said Fireman Bob.
Fireman Bob slammed the door shut.
"What is it?" said Fireman Carl.
"Cockroaches!" said Fireman Bob. "Millions of them!"
"So what?" said Fireman Carl. "Is there a fire, or not?"
"I don't know," said Fireman Bob. "All I see is creepy crawlies."
"Christ," said Fireman Carl. "How old are you? You're scared of little bugs?"
"Then you go in," said Fireman Bob.
"Never mind," said Fireman Carl.
Fireman Carl threw Fireman Bob a canister of something.
"What's this?" said Fireman Bob.
"Bug bomb," said Fireman Carl.
"Why do you have a bug bomb?" said Fireman Bob.
"Have you seen that movie 'Arachnophobia'?" Fireman Carl asked.
"Can't say I have," said Fireman Bob.
"Watch it," said Fireman Carl, "and then you'll have your answer."
Fireman Bob nodded, and opened the door to the candy shop again. He looked down, and saw
his axe. He was about to pick it up off the floor when he saw it was crawling with cockroaches. He
pulled back his hand.
"Uh, never mind," he said, "it's just an axe. I can always buy a new one."
Fireman Bob then went inside the shop. He carefully walked into the center of the room, and
held the bug bomb in his hand.
He read the instructions out loud: "Twist top, and run the fuck away. Warning: May cause
cancer."
"Why would they need to swear?" said Fireman Bob. "Ah, it's a free country, I guess."
Fireman Bob twisted the top of the bug bomb, and ran outside. He closed the door to the candy
shop, and stood, watching through the window. The bug bomb's top, which was a ring-like piece of
plastic, began turning as if a timer.
 Then it went ding, and through a hole, insecticide began pouring out. It was a green cloud that
filled the air. The cockroaches began gasping for air. The chemicals were extremely toxic. So toxic that
the cockroaches did not simply perish; they suffered. They suffered, and their skin burned, and their
insides burned.
Elizabeth, and I, were outside on the glass watching in horror. We had no such anticipation that
this would ever happen. We tried looking away but couldn't. It was gruesome. All the cockroaches were
being poisoned, and they screamed, and screeched, motioning as if reaching out for help -- that help did
not come. There was nothing we could do. They were killed off in what was only seconds, but to us it
seemed forever.
Eventually it was over. All the cockroaches died, laying where they were as mere corpses.
Fireman Bob went back inside the candy shop to investigate, and upon finding no fire he promptly left.
We left too... With our heads hung low.

57.

We returned to the park. As Elizabeth, and I were about to return home, we noticed there was a man.
This man looked like some sort of scientist. He had on thick glasses, and thin white hair on the crown
of his head.
He was standing over our ant hill, with a vat filled with shining liquid. He was pouring this
shining liquid into our nest.
"What's that human doing?" said Elizabeth.
"Don't look!" I said. "Don't look!"
Because I knew exactly what was happening. This man, this "scientist", was making an
aluminum casting of our home.
"Why?" said Elizabeth.
"We have to go," I said. "We can't stay here."
"Are we in danger?" said Elizabeth.
"WE aren't in danger," I said.
"Then good," said Elizabeth. "I want to see this."
Elizabeth's curiosity overrode her common sense. I tried pulling her away, but she stood her
ground, and we watched the "scientist" finish making his aluminum casting of our home. The
aluminum liquid solidified. He got out a shove, and dug out the dirt around it. He pulled it up out of the
ground, and stared at with a satisfied grin.
"Exquisite," said the "scientist."
"Wait a minute," said Elizabeth. "Is that... Our home?"
"I'm afraid so," I said, trying not to cry.
"All my friends," said Elizabeth. "All my family. They're, they're dead?"
"There's no way anyone could've survived that," I said.
"Oh, no," said Elizabeth. She began sobbing.
I stared at the aluminum casting of our ant nest. I could see the intricate details, and all the
rooms, and pods, and tunnels that made up our home. It was beautiful to the "scientist" but to me it
looked like a ghost town. It looked like a symbol of death.
Everything those ants had worked for was gone in what seemed an instant. Their lives were just
a blip. They had died for the vanity of one man, who had no need to do this. The "scientist" wanted a
souvenir to gawk at, and share on social media.
"Elizabeth," I said. "We should go."
"Go where?" Elizabeth sobbed. "My home, my home that I grew up in, has been destroyed."
"We'll find another home," I said.
"I don't want another home," said Elizabeth. "I want my home."
 "It's gone," I said. "It's not coming back."

58.

The days were long. The nights were cold. Elizabeth, and I traveled throughout the city, searching for a
suitable place to live. It seemed that we could find nowhere that was good. Everywhere there were
problems. No spot had everything. It was either no water, no food, no shelter, predators, or a
combination of all those things.
"I'm tired," said Elizabeth.
"We have to keep searching," I said.
"I don't feel good," said Elizabeth. "I feel like I have a cold, or something. I don't have the
energy."
"Do you want me to carry you?" I asked.
"You shouldn't have that burden," said Elizabeth. "And... And... I'm stronger than you think."
Elizabeth was struggling to speak. I could tell she was on the edge of collapse. She was weaker
than ever before. We desperately needed food, and water, and shelter to rest.
"Leave me be," said Elizabeth.
"I can't," I said. "I have to help you."
So, I took Elizabeth, and placed her on my back. She didn't want me to do it, but being so weak
she couldn't resist my efforts. I carried her around for as much as I could, until I myself was ready to
collapse.
"Just a little further," I told myself. "A little further, and we'll find a home."
And as it seemed bleak, I squinted, and saw an ant hill, at the edge of a beautiful forest, with a
creek, and many beautiful flowers. This is where I stopped.
"Elizabeth," I said, "wake up, Elizabeth. I think I've found us a home. Finally, a place we can
stay... Elizabeth?"
I took Elizabeth off my back, and placed her down. Right away I noticed something was wrong.
Very wrong. She was dead. A parasitic fungus had killed her. It invaded her body, and took over. It was
Cordyceps. They had grown inside her, and burst out through her body. Even though they were
dangerous they reminded me of mushrooms. Then again mushrooms can be poisonous, can't they?
"Oh, Elizabeth, Elizabeth!" I cried. "It wasn't supposed to be this way! We were a team. We
were partners. You were the one. You were my first kiss. My first girlfriend. My first everything. You,
and me, we were supposed to be together...forever. How could you leave me like this? I can't go on
without you. A life without you isn't a life at all. It's a prison sentence. Please, come back."
But no matter how much I pleaded, Elizabeth's body wouldn't move. She was without a shred of
doubt through death's door. Only a miracle could have saved her. Miracles, however, are things we see
in movies, and TV. They're not for real life.
"Elizabeth," I continued crying. "Elizabeth!"
As I continued wailing, I then heard a voice.
"Hey," said the voice, "why so glum?"
I was too fixated on Elizabeth, and didn't turn around. The voice appeared in front of me,
revealing itself to be an ant. A strange looking ant with yellow skin, and huge pinchers, and small,
black, dotted eyes.
"Whoa," said Taylor the ant, noticing Elizabeth. "What happened here?"
"My, my, my girlfriend died," I stammered.
"Tough luck," said Taylor. "Did you love her?"
"With all my heart," I said. "She was the one. She loved me when no one else would."
"I'm sorry for you loss," said Taylor. "Do you want a hug?"
"A hug? No," I said. "I'm not in the mood."
 "So, like, what's the deal here?" said Taylor. "Are you all alone?"
"Yes," I said.
"An ant without a colony," said Taylor. "How strange. And sad."
"I used to have a colony," I said. "We were the greatest colony there ever was, but they're dead
now."
"Do you want help burying your girlfriend?" Taylor asked.
"You would do that for me?" I said.
"That's what friends are for," said Taylor.

Beside a daisy, Taylor dug a shallow grave in the soil. I placed in Elizabeth, ensuring I didn't touch her
more than necessary. But I wanted to. I just couldn't risk becoming infected myself. I placed soil on top
of her, and covered her up.
Taylor, and I stood by, and said what words came to our mind.
"I didn't know Elizabeth," said Taylor, "but I bet she was a really strong lady. Because women
are strong. Girl power, and so on."
"Elizabeth... Elizabeth was a magnificent lady," I said. "She was 1 in a trillion. There was no
one else like her. She's irreplaceable. She was my first love, and my last love. God rest her soul. She's
in heaven now. No more hard work, you hear me, Elizabeth? Your pain is over. You get to be happy,
and relax, and have fun in the sunshine. Every day is gonna Christmas."
I broke down crying. Taylor put her hand on my shoulder, and consoled me, telling me it would
be okay. Would it be okay?

59.

Taylor led me along. I followed her. As we were about to reach the ant hill, she took a turn. I stopped.
"Hey, um, you missed the ant hill," I said.
"That's not where I live," said Taylor. "They're a different species of ant than me."
"Oh, okay," I said.
I followed Taylor again. We came to a large group of ants that looked just like her. They were
all stood in formation, with their leader in front of them, barking commands, and shouting various
slogans. He was psyching them up for something.
"That's General Tso," Taylor whispered.
"Like the chicken dish," I said.
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Taylor.
General Tso, the leader of the ants, walked back, and forth. Sometimes he became so energetic
that he jumped up, and stood on two legs like a human.
"MEN!" said General Tso. "What does it take to survive? Not just to survive, but thrive?"
"Smarts?" said an ant.
"No!" said General Tso. "Courage! Bravery! Heart! That's what makes you successful! Smarts
comes when you go out and do something, and get experience -- but you first need courage, bravery,
and heart to do that! So, tell me again, what does it take to survive? Not just survive but thrive?"
"COURAGE!" all the ants yelled. "BRAVERY! HEART!"
"I can't hear you!" said General Tso.
"COURAGE!" the ants yelled. "BRAVERY! HEART!"
"Yarghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" General Tso screamed. "Now go out there, and pick the forest clean!
Get whatever food you can, and don't come back empty-handed! Failure is not an option!"
All of the ants, minus General Tso charged into the forest, and disappeared. At this point Taylor
took me over to the general.
"Who is this dirt bag?" said General Tso. "Mixing around with the enemy, are we, Taylor?!"
 "No, sir," said Taylor.
"I don't want you mixing around with non-military ants!" said General Tso. "Is that
understood?"
"I understand," said Taylor. "He's only a friend, and nothing more."
"Thanks," I said.
"Shut your mouth!" said General Tso. "Where do you get off being sarcastic, maggot? I will not
tolerate any deviations, transgressions, or rule breaking! Everyone must comply! We live as a unit,
survive as a unit, and die as a unit! Not listening, and being a sarcastic dick means trouble!"
"Yes, yes, sir," I said. "Ummm, you did say 'maggot,' right?"
General Tso's blood was boiling.
"Boy!" he said. "How far should I shove my foot up your ass?!"
Taylor looked at me, like she was annoyed with how I was behaving.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Don't be sorry!" said General Tso. "Apologies are for the weak, and people who eat milk
toast!"
"Yes, sir," I said.
"General Tso, sir," said Taylor. "I have a request."
"What is it?" said General Tso.
"My friend," said Taylor. "Can he live with us?"
"A freeloader, eh?" said General Tso.
"No, sir," said Taylor. "He'll help out... Won't you?"
"Of course," I said. "I'm not a lazy sack of crap."
"We'll see about that," said General Tso.

60.

Staying with Taylor, and General Tso was a nightmare. They didn't have a real ant nest. No. They called
themselves military ants (a cousin to army ants), and they kept preaching about how they operated as a
unit. And they literally did. We lived in a tree trunk, and were all attached to one another like a single
entity, living as a bivouac.
"Oh, God," I said, "I hate this... I hate this!"
"Shhh!" said Taylor. "Get some rest. We have a big day tomorrow."
I closed my eyes, and tried sleeping. I couldn't.

61.

Many days went by. Today, General Tso sent all the ants off into the forest to find food. We stuck
together as a single unit, marching in a line, in perfect synchronization. Well, the others did that; I
didn't. I was awkward, and clumsy compared to the others.
"Why are you walking so weird?" said Taylor.
"I can't do this," I said. "My body is different than yours."
"You're an ant," said Taylor. "I mean, close enough, right?"
"Not really," I said.
"Shush!" said Bill, the big, male ant, who was moving up the line, making sure everyone was in
their spot.
"Sorry," said Taylor.
"Oh, no, not you," said Bill. "You keep doing what you're doing, sweetie pie."
"Anything you want," said Taylor.
"Yeah, babe," said Bill. "I'm gonna go up to the front now. It smells back here."
 Bill went up to the front of the line, and returned to leading.
"Wait," I said in a low voice to Taylor, "do you have a thing for Bill?"
"Yeah, he's kinda handsome," said Taylor. "I'm hoping to mate with him one day."
"What about us?" I said.
"Us?" said Taylor. "There is no us. I mean, literally there is, but not in the way you're thinking."
"Why not?" I said. "I like you."
"Listen to me," said Taylor. "You're a different species of ant. I can't be with you."
"Oh, so you're racist?" I said.
"You're a different SPECIES," Taylor reiterated.
"You're still a bigot," I said.
"You're not winning my heart by calling me a bigot," said Taylor.
"I know," I said, "but it's true."
"Whatever you say," Taylor said with a sigh.
Taylor ignored me for the rest of the march, until we stopped at a very large anthill. We
surrounded the anthill in a circle.
"What are we doing here?" I said.
"We're finding food," said Taylor.
"Food? Here?" I said.
"Just get ready," said Taylor.
"Men!" said Bill. "Now is the time to make your mark on the world! Hold your heads high, and
act like you mean business! Show no mercy! COURAGE! BRAVERY! HEART!"
The ants cheered, and I following along, charged with them to the anthill. We went down the
hole, and entered the nest. The nest looked like a fairly normal ant nest, with its rooms, and tunnels.
Except the occupants were not "military ants." They were honeypot ants.
Honeypot ants were basically divided into two types: The regular looking ants, and repletes.
Repletes were ants, but used for storing food. They ingested sweet liquids, and sugars, and stored it in
their abdomens, which would become huge, and swollen.
Kind of like Fruit Gushers candy. Do you remember Fruit Gushers candy from the 1990s? They
were a soft, fruit candy that had liquid in the center.
"Keep up!" said Taylor.
"What's happening?" I said.
Bill led the attack on the honeypot ants. The military ants were raiding, nay, stealing from their
nest. The military ants attacked the honeypot ants, biting them, and killing, and crippling them as they
saw fit. Then they made their way down to the storage chambers, where the repletes were kept. They
carried these repletes, who could not walk, and took them away.
We stole each, and every replete from the honeypot ants' nest, and took it back to our own place,
in the tree, and kept them as convenient food for our own colony.
The honeypot repletes would plead with us to let them go.
"Please, let us go," said the repletes. "Are we both not ants? We are brothers!"
"We aren't brothers," said Bill.
Bill stabbed the replete in its abdomen, and made sweet liquid pour out. The replete screamed in
pain.
"You don't have to stab me," said the replete. "You can stroke my antennae, and I can
regurgitate my sweet liquid."
"I'm not going to eat vomit," said Bill.
The replete cried. But Bill, and the military ants didn't care. They gathered around, and lapped
up this golden liquid. It was delicious. It tasted like honeydew -- so I was told.
I hadn't mustered up the courage to drink it. I was disgusted. The military ants used the
honeypot ants, and kept them as one would keep cartons of milk. To be opened, and emptied whenever
hunger would strike.
Yet how could they justify such cruel behavior? How did they justify capturing innocent
creatures, and stealing from them in this malicious manner?
"Aren't you going to join us?" said Taylor.
"No," I said. "I'm not hungry."
"You're missing out," said Taylor. "It's delicious."

62.

More time passed. I never became used to the military ants, and their strange, overly aggressive
behaviors. I felt completely out of place. No matter what I tried, I stayed a stranger. A foreigner, in a
foreign place.
However, I didn't leave. I couldn't. I had grown a deep attachment to Taylor. Was it because I
was vulnerable, and was wanting someone to replace Elizabeth? I didn't think I could replace Elizabeth
ever, but here I was pining for Taylor.
Yet Taylor didn't care for me. She was a pal, and sometimes a confidant, but she didn't want me.
When I saw her being intimate with other ants, I would run away, and tremble, and cry every time. I
was jealous.
I didn't want to be jealous, and clingy, and so emotional, yet that's exactly how I behaved.
Seeing Taylor with other ants tore me apart, and that was that. There was nothing I could do to stop her
from flirting, and dating, and just being a regular female ant.
I just wish she'd understand my deep pain, and loneliness, and the turmoil I felt inside. Nobody
cared though. As a male ant I wasn't allowed to express my emotions, and show weakness. I had to
keep it all inside, and that turned into misery, and bitterness.
Taylor didn't like it. She hated when I was grumpy, and would call me a grump. If she only
knew that I cared for her, and the misery, and bitterness came from a place of idiotic love.
Every night I would pray for Taylor to be with me, and I'd dream of her. In my dreams we'd be
together, and it was only us, and no one else: My ultimate fantasy.
Today, I decided to confess my feelings to Taylor. I wanted to ask her to be my partner in the
nuptial flight. I found her in the forest quietly eating a clover.
"Taylor?" I said. "Can I speak to you?"
"What is it?" said Taylor. She stopped eating her clover.
"Taylor," I said, "I..."
I was choking! (Not literally.)
"Yes?" said Taylor.
"Excuse me," I said. "Can you give me a second?"
I left a moment to vomit, and then returned.
"Did you just vomit?" said Taylor.
"Uh, nope," I said.
"I heard you go 'BLAAAARGH,'" said Taylor. "And I can smell vomit."
"No, no," I said. "You're mistaken. That smell is Parmesan cheese."
"Oh, okay," said Taylor. "What do you want?"
"Taylor," I said. "You are...the most beautiful ant I've ever seen."
"Thanks," said Taylor.
"ILOVEYOUTAYLOR!" I said.
The sentence came out so rapidly that I didn't even pause whatsoever between my words.
"What's that?" said Taylor. "I couldn't understand that."
"I, I, I, I, I, I," I stammered. "I love you, Taylor!"
Taylor looked shocked. She was taken aback. I walked forward to get closer to her. I had more
to say.
"You're my favorite ant in the whole wide world," I said. "You complete me."
"I complete you?" said Taylor. "Erm, that's a little creepy."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I'm, I'm not creepy. I'm a nice ant."
"I dunno," said Taylor. "Any time an ant tells me he's a nice ant, he turns out to be an asshole.
Are you saying you're an asshole?"
"NO!" I said.
"Just checking," said Taylor.
"Please," I said. "Don't you care that I love you?"
"You know, I like being loved," said Taylor, "but not by you."
I didn't know how to respond. Taylor had just plunged a sword into my heart. My brain was at
half-mast. I couldn't get out any words. I just stood there, staring, trying to not cry.
"Are you okay?" said Taylor.
"N-no," I said. "I'm not okay."
"Hmm," said Taylor, "it seems like you're never okay."
"Taylor," I said. "Do you know why I'm here?"
"Yes," said Taylor. "You're coming out of the closet. You're gaaaaaay!"
"What! No!" I said.
"You seem so upset. What's wrong with being gay?" said Taylor. "Are you homophobic? Are
you a bigot?"
"I'm not gay," I said, "and I'm not homophobic. Or a bigot."
"Good," said Taylor.
"I came here," I said, "to ask you to be my partner in the nuptial flight. Taylor, will you please
be my partner in the upcoming nuptial flight?"
Taylor glanced over her should as if to check whether someone was watching.
"Ha-ha-ha," she laughed. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," I said.
"I would never mate with you," said Taylor. "You're not even a military ant. Oh, gee, what
would our kids look like? They'd be freaks."
"I don't think they'd be freaks," I said.
"Also," said Taylor, "I'm attending the nuptial flight with Bill. You'll have to find someone else
to mate with."
"I don't want to mate with someone else," I said. "I only want to mate with you."
"Too bad," said Taylor. "I'm all booked up."
"How can you be so cruel?" I said. "Have you no idea what it's like to have your heart broken
into a million pieces?"
"I think I know what it's like," said Taylor. "Does that count?"
"Taylor, please," I begged. "We should be together."
"What do I do about Bill?" said Taylor.
"Bill?" I said. "Bill doesn't love you. He just cares about your looks, and your wealth, and your
fame!"
"I'm not famous," said Taylor.
"You're the general's daughter," I said. "Everyone knows you."
"You exaggerate," said Taylor.
"So," I said, still fixated on being with Taylor, "you're really not going to be my partner in the
nuptial flight?"
"No," said Taylor. "I'm going to mate with Bill. Now stop sobbing, and deal with it like a man."
I couldn't stop crying. I just couldn't.
"You know," I said, "there's a saying..."
 Taylor groaned.
"Listen," I said.
"What is it?" said Taylor. "What's the saying?"
"Every romantic relationship has three people," I said. "The two people that are together, and
the person that gets their heart broken."
"We're not people," said Taylor.
"You know what I mean," I said. "You're killing me."
"Your happiness is not my responsibility," said Taylor.
"Taylor," I said, feeling bitter, "one day you're going to regret rejecting me. Yeah, you'll go from
ant to ant, and be in many relationships, and have fun, but none of them will ever love you as much as I
do. Someone might love you as much as 80%, but it will never ever be at a hundred. Because the guy
who loved you 100% wasn't good enough for you, and you treated him like crap. Your pursuit of the
superficial is going to be your downfall. When you get old, you'll be divorced, and alone, splitting time
between your kids. Or you might stay with your partner, and never really be happy, because you're
afraid of starting over again. And you'll have no one to blame, except for yourself."
"What's your point?" said Taylor.
"My point is," I said. "I..."
"Hold on," said Taylor.
Taylor went back to eating her clover. She began ignoring me.
"Taylor?" I said. "Are you listening to me? Taylor? F-fine. I'm leaving. Good day to you."
I left Taylor alone, so she could finish her snack. I tried making it look like I was okay, but
inside I was a quivering mess. I felt so stupid. I felt like the biggest idiot in the world. I was angry, and
sad, and embarrassed, and confused all at the same time. Well, this is what unrequited love does to you.
It sucks. Especially when you're a guy. Because nobody cares about your feelings. You're expected to
be a man, and have everything under control. I don't have anything under control.

63.

Leading the pack of military ants, Bill, and Taylor walked side by side. I, on the other hand, was placed
all the way at the back. Obviously, they didn't want to see me.
Today, we were going out to the deep of the forest, but for what I didn't know. We walked for
what seemed ages, until we finally came to a stop at a big fern plant. The fern plant was infested with
aphids. They were all over the plant, feeding on the leaves, eating its phloem.
"Are those aphids?" I said.
"Yes, they are!" said Taylor.
"How did you hear me from all the way up there?" I said.
"I have good hearing!" said Taylor.
Bill, and Taylor now turned to everyone.
"Men!" said Bill in his very loud voice. "Tonight, we dine in hell!"
"It's not night," I said.
"You shut your whore mouth!" said Bill. "NOW, EVERYONE ATTACK!"
The ants ran up the fern, and began snatching up the aphids -- another source of food, much like
the honeypot ants.
"What're you doing?" an aphid asked.
Taylor grabbed this aphid.
"You will be my slave!" she said.
"No, please!" said the aphid. "Leave me alone! What have I done to you?! I am but an innocent
aphid! Why are you doing this to me?!"
"I do it for the honeydew!" said Taylor.
 Taylor bit the wings off the aphid to keep it from flying away. The aphid shrieked. I stood back,
trying not to get involved.
The military ants greedily snatched up the aphids. They wanted to keep them as slaves. The
aphids could be kept, and bred, to give the ants a seemingly endless supply of honeydew. The
honeydew that the aphids secreted was full of nutrients, and contained glucose, and fructose (i.e.
sugar).
"Ugh, I hate this," I said.
Bill shoved me. "Get to work, you lazy jackass! We work together as a unit!"
Bill was carrying a whole slew of aphids. I picked up an aphid of my own, and sheepishly held
it in my hands.
"Are you going to hurt me?" the trembling aphid asked.
"No," I said. "I'm just pretending that I'm working. I'll put you back after."
"Thank you," said the trembling aphid.
"You're welcome," I said.
As I looked at the trembling aphid in my hands, a creature swooped down, and snatched it away.
I turned my head up. A ladybug had me aphid, and mid-flight, was eating it alive.
"Yeaaaagh! Aaaaaagh!" the trembling aphid shrieked. "At least eat me head first!"
What the hell? What the hell was going on? There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of
ladybugs descending from the sky.
Bill pointed at them, and screamed, "LADYBUGS!"
"Hold your ground!" said Taylor. "Do not let them take what is ours!"
"COURAGE! BRAVERY! HEART!" said Bill.
The ladybugs all came down onto the fern plant, and tried taking "our" aphids. They grabbed
them up, and tore them apart as one would rip dinner rolls. Ruthlessly, they feasted on their sweet flesh
amid screams, and cries.
"Help up us!" said the Aphids. "Help us!"
"ATTAAACK!" Bill commanded.
All at once the military ants charged at the ladybugs, and began fighting them. The ladybugs
were no pushovers though. Literally speaking: They were big. Really big. A single ladybug was about
40 times the weight of one ant. Our only advantage was numbers.
I witnessed Bill, and Taylor, and a dozen other ants piling onto a ladybug. This ladybug spun,
and threw them off as if the were nothing. So, they went back, with even more ants, and put this
ladybug onto its back, and held it down, and began biting into its soft belly.
The ladybug's friend came to help, and it charged through, and steamrolled anyone in the way.
Yet in spite of the physical differences it was a frenzied back, and forth. No one could tell who would
win. The ladybugs were ferocious as much as the ants.
Both sides exchanged attacks with each other, biting, and scratching, poking, gouging, and
ripping wherever possible. It was an all out war, a battle of the bugs. Many lives were lost, but the
military ants were having the most casualties. The ladybugs easily crushed them, and tore them apart.
"Oh, gee-zus!" I said.
I tried hiding under a leaf. I was getting an upset stomach. The carnage, and chaos of the ants,
and ladybugs fighting made me ill. There was so much blood, and guts, just flying everywhere. These
were wild animals, killing one another for the control of something that rightfully belonged to neither
of them. I couldn't stand it. The barbarity, the sheer savagery was unbearable.
"When will this be over?" I thought.
Then a ladybug uncovered me in my hiding spot. I tried running away, but it used its teeth to
clamp down on my leg. It was trying to tear it off. I screamed in pain. The ladybug carried me up into
the sky, and spun, and twirled in an effort to disorient me, and rupture my internal organs.
I wept. I didn't want this. Why did I have to be an ant? Why did I have to be here? Why was I
cursed with this life?
For some reason I cried, "I, I want to go home! I want to go home! I want go back to my home!
Mama! Mama! Where are you, mama?!"
My words did nothing. They fell on deaf ears, and the ladybug kept turning, and turning, so
hard, and with such force that my leg was ripped off. I went flying down to the forest floor, and landed
in the dirt.
I was dizzy, and bleeding, groaning on my back. I looked up at the fern, where the battle was
still taking place. Dead ant bodies were dropping down, one by one.
"Oh, God," I said. "This is it. This is the end of me, isn't it? ...Then fine! So be it! Who wants to
be here, anyway?! I hate my life! Kill me! Go ahead, and kill me! I don't care! I'll be happy if I'm dead!
Death is freedom!"
While I bitterly declared my penchant for suicide the ladybug that had taken off my leg came
down, and landed on top of me. I could feel its pointed legs pressing into my body.
"How would you like to die?" said the ladybug. "Fast, and painless, or slow, so you can say a
prayer?"
"I don't care," I said. "Do what you have to. Nothing matters anymore."
"Heh. A nihilist, huh?" said the ladybug. "How refreshing -- refreshing like the flesh of an ant!"
The ladybug leaned forward, and was going to bite my head off. Then I started laughing.
"Why are you laughing?" said the ladybug.
"I finally understand that nursery rhyme," I said.
"What nursery rhyme?" said the ladybug.
"Row, row, row your boat," I said, "gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
life is but a dream."
"I don't get it," said the ladybug.
"It means anything can happen," I said. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
All of a sudden Taylor dropped down from the air, and landed on the ladybug's head. She then
bit into his eye, and ripped it out clean. The ladybug screamed. But Taylor gave him no mercy, and kept
attacking him, and he rolled around, and fluttered his wings in a panic trying to get her off.
"Get off me!" he shrieked.
Taylor continued her assault, and climber under the ladybug's neck. There she chomped down
on an artery, and made the red, and black beast bleed away all his blood. He spun, and crashed to the
ground, where he died.
Taylor mounted his body, and reared back, with a roar.
"Wow," I said. "What a woman."

64.

The war between the ladybugs, and ants had ended. Many were wounded, and even more had died. Yet
we carried on, not weaker for having lost so many. The war in fact became a point of pride, and the war
was officially named "The Great Ant War" and those who had perished, were worshiped, and revered
for their courage, bravery, and heart.
General Tso even created a holiday for this particular event. It was called "Hero's Day" and by
no coincidence it was placed before the date of the nuptial flight. On Hero's Day everyone got drunk on
honeydew, and sang songs, and celebrated the lives of their fallen friends. I, on the other hand, sat out
of the festivities.
I didn't think any of the military ants were heroes. Sure, they fought, and they died, but not for
any truly heroic purposes. They were fighting over aphids, and trying to take what wasn't theirs. All this
worship was about the death of those who died trying to be robber barons. I didn't agree with it.
"Soldier!" said Bill. "Why aren't you having any fun?"
 "Not in the mood," I said.
"Not proud of the colony?" said Bill. "Are you a traitor?"
"I'm not a traitor for not celebrating," I said.
"Well, you certainly are a wet blanket," said Bill.
"I don't care," I said.
"Hmph," said Bill, and he went away.
The next moment, Taylor appeared.
"Hey, what's up?" said Taylor.
"Not much," I said. "You?"
"Are you going to come, and celebrate with us?" said Taylor.
"Why would I celebrate war?" I said. "Why would I celebrate the death of ants we used to
know?"
"We're not celebrating their deaths," said Taylor. "We're honoring them by celebrating."
"Splitting hairs," I said, "aren't you?"
"See, this is why I'm not attracted to you," said Taylor. "You're all angsty, and bitter, and
introverted."
"Like many others," I said, "you fail to understand me...You think I started out like this? I used
to be bright, and shiny, and happy. Then I changed, because the world screwed me over. I am a product
of my environment. But that's why you don't like me because I represent what this world really is. I'm
the ugly truth."
"You, and your philosophical bullshit," said Taylor. "You're an ant. Nothing more, and nothing
less."
"Exactly," I said. "I'm an ant -- we're all ants."
"Yeah, we're all ants, so what?" said Taylor.
"I don't want to be an ant!" I said.
"You're anti-ant now?" said Taylor. "Is that it?"
"No, but I'd rather being something else," I said.
"Like what?" said Taylor.
"I don't know," I said. "I don't know what I want to be. I just know I don't want to be what I am
right now."
"That's sad," said Taylor. "Well, I'm pretty pleased with being an ant myself."
"Of course you don't mind being an ant," I said. "You're the general's daughter. You have
everything you want."
"Not everything," said Taylor.
"Oh, Jesus," I said. "You've got that look in your eyes. This isn't about Bill, is it?"
"He's a very desirable ant," said Taylor.
Taylor stared at Bill in the distance. Bill was surrounded by many other female ants.
"He's a player," I said. "Why would you want someone who's going to treat you like you're
replaceable?"
"I can change him," said Taylor.
"No way," I said. "You can't change him."
"And why not?" said Taylor.
"Think about how hard it is to change just yourself," I said. "You think it'll be easier to change
someone that's not even you? It's going to be a thousand times harder."
"I can't give up," said Taylor. "Good things happen to those who try hard enough."
"That or insanity," I said.
"Stop belittling my romantic feelings," said Taylor. "I like him. I like him A LOT, okay?"
I sighed, "What's he got that I don't got?"
"Well, for one," said Taylor, "he's handsome."
 "We're ants!" I said. "How much of a difference could there be between us?"
"Not much, I guess," said Taylor. "But why have hamburger when you can eat steak?"
"I'm a vegan," I said. "I don't get the analogy."
"He's just better than you," said Taylor.
"Is...that really how you feel?" I said, frowning.
"Ah, stop looking so hurt," said Taylor. "I know you don't like my frank personality, but if I lied
to you, and told you all good stuff, it would be way worse in the long run. Medicine is bitter, okay?"
"Nuh-uh," I said. "Some medicine is bubble gum flavored. You know, the medicine they make
for kids."
"You're not a child," said Taylor. "A man-child, maybe."
"Okay, I get it," I said. "I suck, you're amazing, and there's no chance we'll ever be together.
Fine. So, be it. This is nothing new. I know what's going on: Always a bridesmaid, and never a bride."
"God," said Taylor, "you're so annoying."
"I'm not annoying," I said. "I express my feelings. This is what I'm feeling. What's wrong with
that? Would you prefer I bottle up my feelings, and let it explode at the wrong time?"
"It doesn't have to explode," said Taylor.
"So you admit it," I said. "You do want me to shut up, and keep it all inside."
"I'm just frustrated," said Taylor. "I can't decide."
"Decide what?" I said.
"Who I want," said Taylor. "You or Bill."
"What?" I said. "You... You like me? Romantically?"
"Yeah!" said Taylor. "Are you so stupid you can't see that?"
"Yes," I said, "yes, I am."
"It's that age-old problem," Taylor said in a frustrated voice. "There are all these things I want,
but they all come separately. It's never in one package. If you get item B, you can't have item A, and
vice-versa. It's like the perfect person only seems to be an imaginary amalgamation of bits, and pieces
from many different people... I MEAN, ants. Ergh, see what you got me doing? Now I say 'people'
instead of 'ants.' You keep talking like you're human. It's infected the way I think."
"Good," I said. "I'm glad I'm having an influence on you."
"Stop being so snarky," said Taylor. "You don't get it. This sucks. It's not a problem that girls
want. Too much choice is bad. Because you get choices when you don't have that one really good thing
that you want. Lots of choices is a result of not getting your real choice. Does that even make sense?"
"I understand," I said. "It's like if you want to go to Disney Land, but you can't afford it, so you
have to choose between Six Flags, or Knott's Berry Farm. Ain't nobody wanna go to no damn Knott's
Berry Farm!"
"Exactly," said Taylor.
"Soooo," I said. "I guess you have some serious thinking to do then."
"Yeah," said Taylor.
"I hope you pick me," I said. "Don't pick Bill. He's an asshole."
"He's not an asshole," said Taylor.
"That's like your opinion," I said.
Taylor sighed.
"I have to go," she said.
She started turning around.
"Wait, before you leave," I said, "can you at least give me a clue who you're going to pick to be
your partner for the nuptial flight tomorrow?"
"Sorry," said Taylor. "I have no idea."
"Okay, okay," I said. "On a scale of 1 to 10, what are the chances I'll be your partner?"
Taylor thought for a moment.
 "9?" she said.
A 9?! 9 is very, very high, especially considering the gravity of this situation. I felt so light on
my feet, and pleased. Is this what happiness feels like?
"Can I go now?" Taylor asked.
"Sure," I said, "see you later."
"See yah," said Taylor.
Taylor left to celebrate the rest of Hero's Day. I, meanwhile was bubbling with excitement.
There was a big smile on my face, because I was to be chosen. Finally.

65.

The next day was the nuptial flight. All the eligible male ants, and female ants were gathered outside in
the most beautiful area of the forest that was filled with flowers, and greenery. We all formed in a
circle, and went off to find partners.
I was searching for Taylor. Where was she? Everyone was quickly pairing up, and yet I was
alone.
"Taylor!" I yelled. "Where are you?"
I spotted Taylor in the distance. I hastily ran up to her.
"Taylor," I said, "there you are."
"What do you want?" said Taylor.
"We're going to be partners for the nuptial flight," I said.
"Sorry," said Taylor. "I can't be your partner."
"Why not?" I asked.
"I just noticed you have no wings," said Taylor.
"The term 'nuptial flight' doesn't have to be literal," I said. "We can do it grounded."
"Still," said Taylor. "It's not what I want."
"What about what you said yesterday?" I asked. "Remember? I asked you what my chances
were of you being my partner in the nuptial flight, and you gave me a 9."
"Yeah, so?" said Taylor.
"You gave me a 90% chance of mating with you," I said. "But now you've suddenly changed
your mind?"
"Huh?" said Taylor. "Oh, oh jeez. You got it all wrong."
"What do you mean?" I said.
"I thought one was the highest," said Taylor.
"Wait," I said. "Sooo, you scored me right at the bottom then? That doesn't make sense. You
said you were having a hard time picking me, or Bill."
"I was just angry at Bill," said Taylor. "I got flustered, and jealous, seeing him hanging out with
all those other female ants. I didn't really mean what I told you."
"So, that's it then?" I said. "Now you've got your eyes set on Bill again?"
"Bill makes me feel a special kind of way," said Taylor. "I can't help it. Do you think I want to
be in love with him? I don't. This is just how it happens to be."
"Well, good luck," I said, sarcastically. "I hope you two are really happy together. Just
remember he doesn't love you as much as you love him."
"Yeah, I know," said Taylor.
Taylor frowned. She went off into the crowd of ants, and found Bill. The two talked to each
other for a while. After some time, Bill decided to pair off with Taylor. Ever the opportunist he realized
mating with the general's daughter would place him higher on the social ladder.
It was crappy a motive, but Taylor didn't seem to care what his reasons were. She was jumping
with joy. I had mixed feelings seeing this. On one hand, I was happy that she was happy, but sad too
because it meant we wouldn't be together.
And I was still lonely. I couldn't find a partner for the nuptial flight. No one wanted to be with
me. I was an unwanted. Even after all this time with the military ants they still saw me as an outsider.
Naturally, the ants didn't care how I felt.
So, ignoring me, they flew off into the sky, and began mating with one another, gleeful, and
excited that they'd gotten the chance to reproduce.
I cried seeing Taylor, and Bill doing what they were doing. It cut me deep. Emotionally, it made
me bleed. I wanted to look away, but couldn't. I made myself suffer. My desire to know everything
about Taylor overrode my rationality.
"Why Taylor?" I wanted to ask. "Why did you have to hurt me like this? Why choose Bill?
Anyone else would've been better!"
Lord, and God in the sky, my head was swimming. I had so many different thoughts. Some of
them made sense, and some of them didn't. Most of them were either angry, or sad. I felt so worthless. I
even lacked confidence where I should have been confident. I had no self-esteem. Everything was
seemingly in doubt. The only thing I was sure of was that I was in immense pain. The loneliness,
missing out, having no friends, it gave me a crushing feeling. It wasn't fair. It's not fair, is it?
When you're pretty, and handsome, and you get rejected you have options. You can meet others,
and get your mind off of someone. As an ugly ant I didn't have that. If I was hurt, that was it. There was
no leaning on another's shoulder, and being consoled, or comforted. I was completely alone, socially,
and in my own thoughts.
Forget about Taylor, I told myself! I kept trying to become detached because it hurt so bad. I
kept telling myself to let it go, and move on. I kept arguing back, and forth in my head. There was this
inner monologue in my head telling me that I wasn't meant for Taylor. Or anyone else for that matter. It
seemed in my world that there wasn't someone for everyone.
Answer me this: Who was to be with me? Who was mine? I had absolutely nobody. I mourned,
and rued the day I was born. To exist here was suffering. I was but an ant. Powerless, and useless in the
grand scheme of things. I did not matter. Kill me, and there's a million more to replace me...and they're
better, smarter, and stronger.
You see, this is why Taylor didn't want me, because I was inferior in every regard. I was at the
bottom of the barrel that was life. Yet I kept teetering on the thought that maybe if I got what I wanted
it wouldn't be what I wanted. Do you know what I mean?
Even if Taylor accepted me, and ticked all my boxes, I couldn't imagine myself being with her
for ever. That idea gave me an unsettling discomfort. For I knew that I didn't truly belong to her; I
belonged to someone else. There was someone in my life that I was really supposed to be with, but I
couldn't remember her face. It was completely blurry. I could feel her in my mind, yet could not discern
any details. Who was she? What was her name? Not knowing gave me this nagging feeling that felt
like emptiness.

66.

The nuptial flight had ended. All the female ants in the colony were fertile, and impregnated.
Everything seemed to be going pretty well, but then the men dropped from the sky, and fell to the
ground. The screamed, and writhed in pain.
I went up to Bill to see what the matter was. Not that I cared for him in particular; he was just
the closest to me.
"Bill?" I said. "Are you okay?
"No," said Bill. "I'm in agony. What's happening to me? Aaaagah! It hurts! I feel hot, and cold
all at the same time!"
"Oh, Jesus," I said.
 "Am I dying?" said Bill.
"No, I don't think so," I said.
Taylor came down, and landed beside us.
"Yes, you are dying," said Taylor.
"What?!" said Bill.
"You didn't know?" said Taylor.
"Know what?" said Bill, amid a cacophony of crying, and screaming male ants, who were
dying.
"After mating," said Taylor, "all male ants fulfill their purpose, and then they die right after,
because their internal genitalia explodes."
Whoa! WTF?
"What, why didn't you tell me?" Bill asked.
"I want to have your babies," said Taylor.
"Don't you love me?" said Bill. "How could you let me die like this?"
"I'm sorry," said Taylor. "I don't love you. At first I thought I did, but realized it was just lust. It
was physical attraction. I didn't love you. How could I love you? You never loved me. You only loved
yourself. You only wanted me because of my social ranking. I wasn't your #1. You're your #1."
"What's wrong with that?" said Bill.
"Why bother explaining?" said Taylor.
"Ahhh, fuck you!" said Bill. "You're a bitch! You're a cold, heartless bitch!"
"I'm afraid history is written by the winners," said Taylor. "Our children won't think of me that
way when they grow up... Because their father won't be around to tell them otherwise."
Bill glowered one last time, then closed his eyes, and passed away. I looked around, and saw the
same was happening to all the other men too. They all died from mating.
"Holy crap," I said. "This is effed up."
"It's the circle of life," said Taylor. "You're born, and you die in misery, but in doing so others
can also be born, and die in misery."
I didn't know what to say to that.
"Well now," said Taylor, "You know what this means."
"What's it mean?" I asked, trying to stay calm amid all the dead, male, ant bodies.
"We can be together!" said Taylor. "My wildest dreams have come true!"
"Wildest dreams?" I said. "What wildest dreams? I don't understand."
"You're so silly," said Taylor. "Haven't you realized my plan? I rejected you to spare your life.
So, now we can be together. You can be the father to my children. I mean, OUR children."
"I don't want to do that," I said. "They're NOT my children."
"Fatherhood isn't solely about passing on your genetics," said Taylor. "There's a lot to being a
father. A father isn't just a glorified sperm donor."
"So, that's the deal, huh?" I said. "Someone else gets to have all the fun, and make your babies,
and then now you want me to pick up the slack?"
"Why are you being such a jerk?" said Taylor. "I've given you the gift of life."
"This isn't the life I wanted!" I said. "I'd rather be Bill right now!"
"So," said Taylor, "you're not going to be the father to my children? How will I raise them on
my own?"
I sighed. "Fine, I'll give it a try."
"Oh, thank you!" said Taylor.
Taylor smiled, and put her arms around me for a hug. It felt good, man.

67.
All the ant eggs had been placed at the bottom of our home. They sat carefully protected in the colony's
tree hollow, looking like mint Tic-tacs. We patiently waited for them to develop. Soon enough that
happened. All the females, including me, and Taylor gathered around. The ant eggs -- which became
larvae, and then pupae -- were finally real ants being born. There were hundreds of thousands of them,
if not more.
"Which ones are ours?" I said to Taylor.
Taylor knew the scent of her children. She scooped them up, and brought them over to me.
There was at least a dozen of them.
"Here," she said. "This is... 5% of our children."
"There's more?" I asked.
"Being a father is thankless work," said Taylor.
"Excuse me," I said. "Can I go do something first?"
"Do what?" said Taylor.
"Umm, I have to go out, and buy a pack of cigarettes," I said. "This is all so stressful."
"Sure, just be sure to come back," said Taylor.
"Yes," I said with a nod.
"Wait a minute," I heard Taylor saying in a low voice. "Ants don't smoke."
Oh, no! She was onto me! I ran as fast as I could, leaving behind Taylor, and all her newborn
ants.
"Run!" I yelled to myself. "Don't stop! Keep going! Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh! Screw those ugly ant
babies! I hate ants! Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!"
Eventually, I made my escape, abandoning the colony. I could not see the forest anymore. Even
though I was missing a leg, and out of breath, I managed to make it out. There was no one following
me, and no ants in sight. I was back to suburbia.

68.

I became a lone wanderer, going from place to place, surviving on my wits, and instincts. Despite
leaving it all behind, my life had become even more harsh than it was before. There was nowhere to
find shelter. There were traps, and tricks waiting for me at every corner. The cruel, loud, boorish
humans were killing bugs, and insects both intentionally, unintentionally. We were treated as things to
be ignored, squashed, maimed, or tortured.
Today, I came up to a lawn, and tried finding rest. The rest was not too long as I turned my
head, and felt the earth shaking, with a loud motor-like noise. I could barely stand. I was shook to my
core.
I looked up, and saw an old man coming down my path with a lawnmower!
"Oh, no!" I exclaimed.
I picked up my legs, and tried running. I was so slow. I kept telling myself to go faster. Having
previously lost my leg in "The Great Ant War" and being tired, and hungry took its toll.
The lawnmower came closer, and closer, and pieces of grass rained down from the sky. Pieces
of grass not too large to a person, but to an ant enormous. It was like bombs were dropping from the
sky. I zigged, and zagged heading for the fence.
It seemed that I was going to be chewed up, but at the last second I made it. I got through the
chain link fence to the other side. It was a narrow escape. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Unfortunately, my sigh of relief was premature. Another man, also doing yard work, came by
with his gratuitously loud leaf blower. He pointed in my direction, and blew me away.
I landed on the pavement, half conscious. My ears were ringing, yet I could still hear the
insidious sounds of the machines that vibrated my exoskeleton, and penetrated my flesh, giving me a
migraine-like headache. Why wouldn't the noise stop?
 I was in agony, laying there. I tried getting onto my feet, but only managed to lay upon my side.
My legs wouldn't move anymore. I was paralyzed from the attack of the leaf blower.
"God help me," I whimpered.
"OOOH! What's this?" said a boy's voice.
My eyes slowly shifted upward, and I saw a boy standing above me. He was a chubby, dirty
child, wearing a backwards hat. There was a magnifying glass held in his hand.
"An ant!" said Kriss.
Bloody hell. The kid's name was Kriss. You can't expect anything good from someone named
Kriss.
"Lemme take a closer look her," said Kriss.
Kriss bent down, and held his magnifying glass above me.
"Leave me be," I said in a feeble voice.
Kriss examined me, looking at the details of my body.
"You look hurt," said Kriss.
I knew he didn't understand, but I replied anyway.
"I am hurt," I said. "I've been hurting since day one. Do you know what it's like to be a human
in an ant's body? It's hell. It's hell, I tell you."
"Interesting," said Kriss.
As Kriss continued my examination, another person came along. This was a girl. She was a
skinny child, with a pointed nose, and she was eating a chocolate bar, chewing it loudly, and more than
it needed to be chewed.
"Hey, Kriss," said Sammy. "Watcha doing there?"
"Looking at an ant," said Kriss. "I think he's hurt."
Sammy took out a soda from her pocket, and guzzled it down. She burped, and tossed the can
on the ground.
"You shouldn't pollute like that," said Kriss.
"Shut up," said Sammy.
Sammy was a crazy girl. She bit into Kriss' back, and when he cried in pain, she took his
magnifying glass.
"Ow! Why'd you bite me?" said Kriss.
"Shut up," said Sammy.
Sammy took the magnifying glass, and held it so it created a point of light. She started moving
the light towards me. I could feel its heat.
"What're you doing?" I said.
Sammy moved the magnifying glass around, and burned various insects that were on the
ground. Then she burned the tip of my right antenna. It smoked, and made a bitter smell. I shrieked.
"Stop that!" said Kriss.
Kriss grabbed at the magnifying glass, and he wrestled for it with Sammy.
"Let go," said Sammy.
"No, I'm not letting go," said Kriss. "You're a bully! I've had enough of it!"
"As long as you're my little brother," said Sammy, "I own you!"
Sammy kicked Kriss between the legs. Kriss crumbled to the ground, holding his groin. Sammy
then hurled his magnifying glass into the street, and ran off.
While I had sympathy for what happened to Kriss, I couldn't stay around to give him any words
of sympathy. I used every last ounce of energy I had in my body to get back to my feet. I rolled, and got
to standing. I ever so slowly started walking away. I shook my head hearing the boy crying in the
background.

I had gotten a good distance up the street I was on. About an hour had passed by, and by some luck, I
discovered a fresh colony of ants -- more importantly, ants that looked like me. They were walking
around collecting granulated sugar.
"Hi!" I said to one of the ants.
He ignored me. I went up to someone else, and went, "Hello?"
The response was the same. For some reason none of the ants wanted to talk. But they were the
same as me, weren't they? How come no one was talking?
"Why isn't anyone saying anything?" I asked.
An ant passed by, and quickly replied, "No outsiders!"
I'm not an outsider, I thought. But no matter how much I tried to communicate, I was shut out.
They weren't having it. So, I decided to nibble on some sugar, and then quietly leave. I found a spot,
away from the others, where I surreptitiously gathered some white sweetness. It was delicious. I kept
eating, and eating, I was so hungry.
While doing so, that awful girl from earlier returned. It was the return of Sammy, the older sister
to Kriss. She came back, holding a bottle of honey, and a new magnifying glass.
The ants working to collect sugar didn't notice. That is until she began pouring down honey. The
ants could smell the sweetness. Boy, it smelled so good. The ants gathered, and licked the honey.
Sammy kept pouring the honey from her bottle. It seemed very generous of her. Perhaps she had a
change of heart, and decided to be a good girl from now on.
I was wrong. Sammy was pouring out too much honey, and was trapping, and drowning many
of the ants.
"Halp!" they screamed. "Halp! Halp!"
The sweet, golden liquid nevertheless engulfed them. I kept my distance, trying to stay out of
harm's way.
Sammy laughed a shrill laugh. "Ahhh-ha-ha-ha-ha! Stupid, fat, ugly ants! Now you're trapped!"
Sammy got out her new magnifying glass, which was even bigger than the one she took from
her little brother. She held it to the sun, and created a fine beam of light that at the end became as hot as
fire.
"Die!" said Sammy.
She laughed some more, and ran the beam of laser-like light from her magnifying glass over as
many ants as she could find. They were burning up, and dying. They were screeching, "Aaaaagh!
Aaaaaagh! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh! Have mercy on our souls!"
The smell was hideous. It smelled worse, even worse than when I got my own antenna burnt.
This had a stink of charred hair, sulfur, paprika, and stale honey.
"Oh, no, oh, no," I whispered to myself, "don't come here...!"
Sammy spotted me hiding behind a clover. I began running. She stomped her foot down, and
place it in my way. Then she pointed the "ray of death" in my direction. The heat was unbearable. I felt
hot even though it wasn't touching me.
So, I did the only thing I could think of. I climbed onto Sammy's shoe, and went up her pant leg.
She didn't notice though. I was clinging to the inside of the fabric of her pants. It was like Jiu Jitsu. If
you can't bang you get in close. This was the ant clinch.
"Hey, little ant," said Sammy. "Where are you? Come out, and play!"
Sammy spun around, searching for me. Why did she specifically want to find me? I didn't know
why. Maybe I was cursed.
However, I was winning this particular battle. I couldn't believe my plan was working. Ye'
boyyyyyyyyyyyyy! She had no clue I was literally right under her nose. The stupid fool! An ant I was,
yet I proved myself smarter than a human. Ha! Humans! They always think they're so smart! You think
humans are smart?If you want a picture of humanity think about the dumbest person you know. Now
divide that in half. That's the average person.
Yah! Ants rule! We rock! Fuck you, stupid, ugly humans!"
 "Found yah!" said Sammy.
Sammy shook me out her pants, and picked me up with her fingers. She held me, and stared into
my eyes as a I struggled.
"Any last words?" said Sammy.
"You're a piece of shit," I said.
"Ha-ha! You can't speak, can you?" said Sammy.
I felt Sammy squeezing the life out of me, and then as I was about to become an ant pancake,
her brother Kriss returned. Kriss, the kid whose name I made fun of, pushed his sister down. Kriss fell,
and released me from her grip. Kriss then turned to Sammy, and grabbed him, and began punching him
like big sisters do.
"You little bastard!" said Sammy. "How dare you touch me!"
"You're a bully!" said Kriss. "And your room is messy! You're a pig of a woman!"
"I'll show you who's the pig!" said Sammy. "I'm gonna make you squeal, brother!"
Sammy grabbed Kriss's nipple, and twisted it. Kriss did in fact squeal.
"Eeeeeeeee, you stupid bitch!" said Kriss.
Sammy paused at this remark.
"That's not a very nice thing to say," said Sammy.
"S-sorry," said Kriss. "I didn't mean it."
"None taken," said Sammy.
Sammy picked Kriss up, and threw him to the ground.
Kriss groaned in pain, and held his back: "Aaaagh, my back!"
He started crying, and tears streamed down his face.
"Oh, stop pretending," said Sammy. "I didn't throw you that hard to the ground."
"Call 9-1-1," Kriss groaned.
Thank you, Kriss. You are my savior. Not all humans are bad, huh?

69.

I had lost track of time. All I knew was so many days had gone by. So many days wasted. So many
days useless. So many days without making any progress. It all went by fast. I began to lose it. I was a
prisoner in my own mind, and body. What was I to do as an ant? What was my ultimate goal? I had
none. My only goal was to survive, and even that seemed far too difficult.
I went from place to place, feeling lost, not knowing when, and where my next meal would be. I
had trouble getting around as one of my legs was missing, and my right antenna was damaged from
previously being burned. What would I do with myself?
I felt dizzy, like I was going to faint. I crawled up to a random house, and passed out on the
front door.

I was a human again. But I was floating as a spirit inside my old house. My older brother, and older
sister were there. And so was my mom, and me as an 8 year old child. They were celebrating my
birthday in the dining room. My older sister was tickling me. I was squealing. My mom slapped my
face to shut me up. She didn't even hesitate. She just slapped me, and that was that.
As I was crying, she took a picture of all of us. Everyone was smiling except me.

I skipped randomly back, and forth through my memories. I found myself a spirit again, but this time
staring at myself in the school's public bathroom. I was 8, or 9? I was in the bathroom taking a pee at
one of the urinals, when Kenny, a mentally challenged compatriot, started peeing up my leg. I was so in
shock that I couldn't move.
Later on, I got a change of pants/trousers, and I distinctly remember no one apologizing for
what happened to me. Not the lady who was supposed to be watching Kenny, nor Kenny's mom. No
one gave me an apology. The school I was in was run by Catholics. The God worshiping adults
seemingly never felt guilty for anything.

I developed an acute fear of going into public bathrooms. When I went to school, I'd always hold it in
for home. One day this backfired. I held it in since the morning, and I was walking home I totally
crapped myself. It was a full blown shit. I took off my underwear, and threw it into a green trashbin.

I was 11 years old. My French teacher left the room to chat. While doing so the whole class went a
little crazy. I threw a paper airplane, and it landed on the floor. The French teacher came back in, and
asked who threw the paper plane. I confessed, and she told me to pick it up with my mouth. She
threatened to tell the principal if I didn't. Fearing my parents, or getting in trouble, I got down on my
hands, and knees, much a like a dog, and put the paper airplane in my mouth, and threw it into the
rubbish bin.
The whole class laughed at me, and were very happy at what was happening. I went back to my
desk, and started crying.

The strange chapters in my life continued. It was like watching a film that I couldn't interact with. My
memories just passed in front of me.
I saw myself with my grandparents from my dad's side. They took me to see "The Godfather:
Part III." It was a really boring movie, I thought, but my grandma was into mafia movies. My
grandfather took me, my brother, and sister away to the other screening room to go see a film called
White Fang.

One of my uncles, nicknamed Uncle Carbunkle, took me, my sister, and brother, and cousin to see
Home Alone. After it was done, I called my Uncle Carbunkle a redhead. My earlier mom told me that
his named meant redhead. He slapped me on the back of my head, and we drove home. I was very
confused about why he had hit me. I didn't get it.

Another uncle of mine was walking me, and my sister home from elementary school. I was quite a
pudgy character, and he made fun of me, saying I had tits, and he took a branch from a tree, and started
whipping my bottom, telling me to go faster. The next day he did the same thing too, but instead of a
branch, a long plastic straw that came with those mega slushies.

When I was 11, I was a meticulous collector of comic books. I really enjoyed collecting them, and
saved up all my money to buy them. One day, my sister broke all of my comics. For no reason, she bent
all of my comic books, and crushed them. I was devastated. And angry. I took her Richie Rich comic
book, and tore it in half. My dad made me pay the 50 cents for it. I said, "What about my comics that
she broke?" He didn't care.

My sister used to have this plastic box that she kept all her cards, and collectibles in. I wanted a plastic
box of my own. I asked my dad if he could buy me my own plastic box. He said no, that I was a waste
of money. I didn't get my own box. I had a cardboard box instead.

I was walking outside with my sister, going back to the house. She told turned around, and shoved me
to the ground. I fell, and got the wind knocked out of me. When I was lying on the ground my dad told
me to get up, and he stepped over me. My sister told me she pushed me because I was following her.

I was 6 years old at the school gym with my sister. For some type of event. A little carnival. I don't
know. I picked up a red ball on the ground, and she bit me on the back. My sister literally bit me on the
back. Really hard. Teeth sunk into my flesh. I started crying. A girl there supervising asked my sister
why she had bit me. My sister said I took her ball. It wasn't her ball.

I was sitting in the back of my dad's car with my sister. I was looking for my seat belt that fell between
the cushions. She threw the seat belt at my head. It left a big lump on my forehead. No one asked if I
was okay.

5 years old at my paternal grandfather's house. He was demonstrating "science" to me. He put his hand
on top of my head, and then hit his own hand to show me how energy's transferred. I don't know if I
learned anything. I only had a headache after that.

I was staying at my paternal grandparents' home. My mom called from long distance, being on a trip to
visit her parents. Everyone in my family got to say hello, except for me. My grandfather said it was too
expensive. He didn't let me talk to my mom. I finally saw her after waiting a month.

My grandfather was a very cheap person. He used to save ice cubes. You know, after people had drunk
their drinks, he'd drain the liquid, and put the ice cubes back into the freezer to be reused. One time, I
tried taking a poo, and it was one of those poos where it didn't amount to much of anything. After I
washed my hands, he told me I was wasting water, because there was no crap on my hands.

Me, my sister, and brother were at the mall. My dad gave my brother, and sister $10 each to spend. I
got $5.

I was 4 years old. With my family at the mall. Eaton Center? Mom, dad, brother, and sister were
holding hands, while I straggled at the back. They left me behind, and then I started crying. A police
officer approached me, and I couldn't speak. I kept crying. After this, I developed a fear of becoming
lost.

Me, and my sister were at a fair. What type of fair? I don't know. We were kids. We were walking
through a large crowd, and then she started running away from me. Smiling while running as I tried
following her. I became lost. She knew I was afraid of being lost, and she left me. I was stuck in a
crowd of strangers, completely alone.

Me, my sister, and dad went into a McDonald's. I tried ordering food, and had a stammer. On the ride
back home my dad kept making fun of my speech impediment. He, and my sister laughed at me. Then I
developed a fear of ordering food.

Me, my sister, and dad went shopping for school supplies. We were about to leave when I mentioned I
got the wrong item. My dad flipped out. He started yelling, and swearing at me. He called me a 'fuck
head' which to this day, I don't know what that is.

A really fat kid named Harvey (?) punched me in the face after I said "hello" to him. Later that day my
older brother heard this, and beat him up with an umbrella.

I talked a lot in school. The kids would always tell me to shut up. Then I stopped talking, and they
asked why I was so quiet. To this day, I am still relatively quiet.

I was a teenager. 16? My brother was yelling at me, telling me I was a loser, going nowhere in life. I
started crying. My dad was there too. He turned up the volume on the TV.

My dad yelled at me for looking at his telescope.

My dad would whip me with his belt seemingly for no reason. I got beat a lot, almost on a daily basis.
He hit me so much that I couldn't find distinctions from one to the next. It literally seemed like a blur.
My mom, however, didn't beat me as much, but she would punish me for strange reasons. One time, my
mom slapped me in the face for spilling a cup of milk by accident. I cried over that spilled milk. Only
'cause she slapped my face.

I had this Catholic Filipino teacher in grade 3. She was a very bad teacher. Not only did she not teach
very well, she would also hit the kids. One time she hit my friend on the head with a meter stick, and he
started crying. This was not in a period, where hitting kids was acceptable.

Still in grade 3. This girl named Jennifer, who would scratch me till I bled, tore up my sticker book one
day. I tried telling our teacher, but she was the teacher that would hit her students. What did she care? I
worked so hard for those stickers.

I was 13 years old. I asked my friends to sign my year book. They signed it alright, but they called me a
loser, and said I was a fat shit. They told me to lose weight.

My brother put me in a headlock, because he didn't like that I had only eaten the top of a muffin. I tried
punching him in his balls to get him to let go. It didn't work. But that's what they teach you in self-
defense classes.

I was 7 years old, taking karate classes with my brother, and sister. My sister, and I were set up to
"spar" (i.e. fight). She was a head taller than me, I think. We were supposed to go light. The sensei, i.e.
teacher, was in his office doing what, I didn't know. Anyway, we were unsupervised. So, my sister
pretty much went to town, and beat me up. When I complained my dad made fun of me, because I had
let a girl kick my ass.

My best friend at the time, Paul, and I were outside in the school yard. As I was bending down he
elbowed me in my spine a few times. When I cried, he told me I was exaggerating my pain. We were
friends for about 15 years, even though he made fun of my weight a lot. He called me fat for the
longest time, until we grew up, then he switched over to newer names.

A lot of the kids in school called me fat, and a weirdo. All of the girls rejected me. Like mostly
everyone, none of them gave me a chance. Other than that, I don't remember too many events. It was
just a daily general harassment from elementary school all the way up to high school. I was what you'd
call the exact opposite of popular. No one paid attention to me, unless they wanted to say, or do
something mean to me.

This kid who used to be my friend, I think his name was Chris, threw eggs at my house before
Halloween, and he called me a faggot. A lot of the boys in high school would call me a faggot. The
desk I sat at was vandalized with white-out, and it said in bold letters that I was a faggot. Homophobia
wasn't exactly taboo in the Catholic school system.

I was 16 years old, walking through the hallways of my high school. This girl named Kim for some
reason just started insulting me, and called me ugly. What was the reason? I guess no reason.
My friend, and I went up to some girls, and asked them to rate us. They gave my friend a 7/10, and me
a 3/10.

The kids in grade 9 beat me up because I was new to the school. Well, they didn't beat me up. They just
took my arm, and repeatedly punched it, until the whole thing was black, and blue.

My mom tried giving me fat-free yogurt, and I said I didn't like fat-free yogurt, and she told me I
should eat it because, "Look at you!"

When I was smiling, my mom looked at me, and said I had a scary smile. I stopped smiling for a long
time.

I was talking with my mom, one day, and she told me I was an accident. This is why I wasn't born in
Canada. I really wish she had just aborted me.

70.

The memories continued playing.

One really great memory came up. It was as far as I could remember my only happy memory. I
was sitting down, feeling sorry for myself. Not an endearing quality, but I was. And my nose was red,
and my eyes were red from having a little cry earlier. I just felt that my life was pointless, and that it
didn't mean anything.
As an award, gawky, fat, unattractive teenager, I felt like I had nothing to live for. I was sat on a
park bench during rainy weather. Nobody cared that I was here in a storm. Nobody cared that I was
getting wet. Or so I thought.
Whilst I was sitting down, letting the rain soak my clothes, I saw a girl in a yellow rain coat,
with an umbrella, coming down the trail. She came closer, and closer, as if in a rush. I recognized her. It
was that girl from my school. It was Allison.
Allison stopped in front of me.
"Hey, are you okay?" she said.
"Huh?" I said, barely able to believe someone like her would talk to me.
"I was looking out through my window," said Allison, "and I saw you here. I thought you could
use this."
Allison handed me her umbrella.
"You shouldn't be out here in weather like this," she said. "You'll get sick, and catch a cold."
"I won't catch a cold," I said. "Why do you even care?"
"Well, um, Allison," said, "we're classmates. Don't you remember me? I sit in front of you in
math class."
"You remember me?" I said in disbelief.
"Ah, yah," said Allison. "You're a nice guy. But not like those self-proclaimed nice guys. You're
actually a nice guy. Even though you mostly keep to yourself, I see what you do."
"Thanks," I said, holding the umbrella Allison gave me. "I'm glad I'm being recognized for my
good deeds."
"And also," said Allison, "I wanted to tell you something else."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I know what you're going through," said Allison. "You're like me... You're your own worst
critic. Take my advice: Don't be so hard on yourself. You don't need to be. You're trying, you're trying
really hard, and that's what matters. Stop thinking that your lack of reward means you're worthless. One
day, your horse, and carriage are gonna come around, and it's gonna take you away to the life you've
always wanted. Because you deserve better. A sweet, beautiful guy like you should get everything he
wants."
I was stunned. Allison thought I was beautiful?
"You think I'm beautiful?" I asked.
"Ah-ha, don't let it get to your head," said Allison. "Ha-ha."
We both laughed.
"Alright," said Allison, "I better get going. My dad's gonna kill me."
"Sure, see yah later," I said.
"See yah later," Allison replied.
Allison skipped off in the rain. She smiled at me, and waved goodbye.

71.

I fell in love with Allison. I didn't want to but it just happened. And it felt so good. I felt light on my
feet. Today, I was at my locker, trying not to smile too much, because I didn't want people to think I
was strange.
Suddenly, the locker door shut on my hand. I yelped in pain, and stepped back. I saw Liam
staring at me. He was holding a basketball in his hands.
"Liam," I said. "What, what're you doing here?"
Liam threw the basketball at my face, and knocked me down. Liam then went into my locker,
and took my lunch, and started eating it in front of me. Then he took the rest of the stuff in my locker,
and threw it to the floor.
I got to my feet.
"Liam!" I said. "What the hell are you doing?"
Liam grabbed me, holding me by my shirt, and he pushed me up against the wall.
"Stop talking to Allison," he said.
"What?" I said. "Why?"
"I don't like it," said Liam.
"I'm not going to stop talking to Allison," I said. "I don't care if you don't like it."
Liam let me down -- and then shoved me to the floor, and he got on top of me, and rained down
punches while I tried to survive, covering my face with my arms.
"Stop," I said, bleeding. "Why are you doing this to me?"
"I want Allison!" said Liam. "She's mine, you hear me?! Say you won't talk to her ever again!
Say it!"
"No," I said.
Liam beat on me some more till I was half conscious. He kept repeating his command to me to
not see, or talk to Allison.
"F-f-fine," I said. "I'll steer clear of... Allison."
Liam finally stopped, and got off me. Standing above me, he spat on my face.
"Know your place," he said. "You're not good enough for MY Allison. She's mine, you hear
me?"
"O-okay," I said. "Whatever you want."

So, for the rest of the school year, I ignored Allison. I didn't want to, but Liam, and his buddies would
dish out physical, and verbal punishment to me, if I tried anything whatsoever. One time, they punched
the crap out of me, and they grabbed me, and threw me into a pile of snow face first. Then they stuffed
my clothes full of this snow to make me freeze.
Another time, I remember, they chased me around in their car, and started calling me all sorts of
names. And they ganged up on me, and surrounded me, and started pushing me back, and forth. I was
tripped, and I smashed my head into a brick wall. I was confused. I really didn't know what to do.
Nobody would help me. I was fending for myself, and they were relentless.
So it was, my spirit broke, and I gave up. I just couldn't talk to Allison anymore. I convinced
myself that a girl like Allison would never want to be with someone like me anyway.
However, I did feel foolish for giving up, because obviously this was all a part of Liam's plan.
He was trying to chase away the competition. He was a savage when it came to the ladies. He did
anything to get what he wanted. He was ruthless. Yet nobody I knew knew that, because he was the
world's best actor, and with a great ease he'd switch back, and forth between his two personalities.
For the people he liked he was Mr Nice Guy. But for the anyone that he hated, or disliked, and
wanted out of the way he turned into a blood sucking monster. I guess it all worked out for him in the
end though, because after I got scared off, he went in for the kill, and seduced Allison.
I heard they had a summer fling, and became boyfriend, and girlfriend. The news made me sink
into a deep depression. I cried for weeks, and weeks. It was supposed to be me, and Allison, not Liam,
and Allison. What had this world come to? The one, and only thing I wanted in my entire life was taken
away, and it would never ever return, no matter how hard I hoped for change.
For a long time after, I unintentionally coped by staying in denial. I pretended that I didn't need
Allison, or anyone else's love for that matter. I gradually became withdrawn, and stoic. I lost a lot of the
zeal I had for life -- yet my subconscious propelled me into doing things that would connect me to
others, so I wouldn't be completely alone.
I was compelled to write as a means to express my feelings, and to talk to people, even if they
didn't respond. Because I needed to be loved, whether or not I wanted to admit that.
So badly did I want to write a book, and have it published. I imagined the day Allison would be
walking into a bookstore, and she'd find my novel, and read it, and I'd touch her heart, and she'd see it
was all really for her.
Alas, this never happened. The arduous, unrewarding dedication to my writing resulted in
nothing. To this day, I still regret all the time lost.
I just wanted Allison to love me. Allison, why can't we be together? Why isn't it you, and me?
Allison, can you hear me? Allison, are you there? Allison? Allison? Allison? ALLISON?!? EEEEE!
EEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

72.

My eyes suddenly opened. I awoke to the sound of screeching. I turned my head, and saw a group of
ants attacking a caterpillar. They had swarmed on him, and were biting him, and, tearing him apart.
"Stop!" I said. "What you're doing is wrong! You evil bastards!"
"Who's evil bastards?" said a voice.
I turned my head again, and noticed a familiar face. It was Antonio.
"Antonio?" I said. "Is that really you? I thought you died when that 'scientist' poured molten
aluminum into our ant nest to make his sculpture."
"Nah," said Antonio. "I was here watching TV. TV... Some say it rots your brain, but I'm not
sure that CTE works that way."
"CRT?" I said.
"No, CTE," said Antonio.
Antonio now helped me to my feet.
"By the way," said Antonio, "you don't need to yell at the television. It's not a video game. You
can't change the outcome... I think."
I looked, and indeed the images I saw were from a TV screen. It was a documentary about ants
in the Brazilian rain forest. It was called: "Jiu Jitsu Ants."
 "Oh, ah, silly me," I said. "I should've known."
"So, what're you doing here?" I asked.
"I rescued you," said Antonio. "I saw you passed out in front of the house, so I picked you up,
and took you here. I didn't wanna miss my programs. You know, things are really heating up between
Samantha, and the boys. I don't know why I care about that though."
"Yeah, hey, thanks for helping me out," I said.
"No problem-o," said Antonio.
"You must be sad to hear the news about our colony though, right?" I said. "But you don't seem
that sad."
"I WAS sad," said Antonio. "Not so much right now. Because I've decided to put away my
misery, and think happy thoughts instead. Mmmmm, candy. So good!"
"I, uh, don't think this is very healthy behavior," I said.
"Hey, sad things always happen in life," said Antonio. "If you let them all make you sad, you
will be sad all the time. So, don't be sad. Think happy thoughts, and be happy. What does being
miserable do? How does it help anyone? Does negativity ever improve anything?"
"Sadness sucks," I said, "but it helps us survive. It has a purpose. We can't just act happy all the
time, and force smiles onto our faces. Then we're living a fake reality."
"I don't care if it's fake," said Antonio. "The end result is a real feeling of happiness. And don't
tell me I'm insane. Your precious humans do it all the time, too. They're fixated on fantasy, and fiction.
The lies keep them alive."
"I disagree," I said.
"Then we agree to disagree," said Antonio.
"I don't agree to that," I said.
"Anyway," said Antonio, "shall I give you the grand tour of my bedroom?"
Antonio, and I were standing on a chipboard desk. He began pulling me along, when I stopped,
and recognized exactly where I was. I was stunned.

73.

"Whoa, why'd you stop?" said Antonio. "We're doing a GRAND tour. Remember?"
I broke away from Antonio, and centered myself. I looked around. We were in...my room. My
bedroom that I used to live in when I was a child! This was my childhood home! My memories flooded
back into my mind. I recognized all the objects around me.
There was the stained, pink, carpet flooring. There was my creaky bed that smelled like piss.
My movie posters on the wall. The dresser with its cracked mirror. Random stickers on my desk, where
I used to lazily do my homework. And even the black spots on the ceiling that happened, because I was
playing with roman candles on Victoria Day.
All the things I knew were here, and intact. I thought my parents had gotten rid of it, when I
moved out into the backyard, and lived in the shed. No. They kept everything just the way it was.
Nothing was different. There wasn't even any dust. I figured my mom cleaned up here every once in a
while.
"What, what is it?" said Antonio.
"This is it," I said.
"I'm not following," said Antonio.
"This is my bedroom from when I used to be a human child," I explained.
"You still think you're human, huh?" said Antonio.
"I am human," I said. "I'm just in the wrong body."
"That offends me," said Antonio. "I like being an ant. What's wrong with it?"
"Nothing," I said. "If you enjoy being an ant that's cool. But I'm not an ant. I'm a human in an
ant's body, and this place, oh, wow, it brings back so many memories. A lot of them not so great, but
some of them were pretty awesome too. Ha. I remember my first time on that bed. We just went at it
the whole night. It was an amazing experience. Really, it's what made me a video game fan."
"What?" said Antonio.
"I played Super Mario Bros 3 on my bed," I said. "Since we didn't have a couch up here we sat
on the bed. Me, and my older brother, and older sister. Boy, it was a tonne o' fun. We beat the game at
least three times."
"Did you use the Warp Whistles?" said Antonio. "If so, that doesn't count because it's cheating."
"No Warp Whistles," I said. I continued reminiscing. "Heh. The TVs back then used to be
humongous. They used cathode ray tubes. Weighed so much. It took up all the space on this desk. I
remember sometimes my mom would come up here, and play the Nintendo, too. But she'd only play
the Tetris. Do you know about the Tetris?"
"It sounds familiar," said Antonio.
"It's a fun game," I said. "You should try it sometime."
"I don't have hands," said Antonio.
"Right," I said. "Of course."
Then the next moment, I began smelling a familiar smell. It was the smell of my mom's dinner.
One of her big, fancy, traditional meals. I salivated, thinking about eating it.
"C'mon!" I said.
I began climbing down the desk I was on, and headed for the floor.
"Where're you going?" said Antonio.
"Somewhere special," I replied. "Let's go!"

74.

We were at the top of the fridge in the kitchen of my childhood home. It looked just as it did all those
many years ago. There were the yellow flowers on the wall, the fake wood counters, the checkered
linoleum flooring, and the rusting double sink.
This was a dose of nostalgia for me. Here Antonio, and I watched my human family in the
nearby distance. My mom, dad, older sister, and older brother were all here.
My mom was serving everyone (minus we ants) fresh, hot food. I started salivating. She
generously put the food on their dishes. It looked so good.
However, I sensed something somber in the air. There wasn't a lot of chatting, or laughing, and
talking. My mom was not in a jolly mood. Dad looked tired, and even older than normal. I think I knew
what was happening here. My mother was filling everyone up, so she could drop a bomb on them.
"We just came back from the doctor's," said my mom.
She sat down, looking like she was going to cry.
"What is it?" said my older brother.
My mom tried speaking, "I..."
"Out with it," said my older sister.
My mom took in a deep breath.
"Your father has cancer," she quickly said.
Everyone's mouth dropped. Cancer? My dad had cancer?
"You're joking," said my older brother.
"It's no joke," said my mom.
"I can't believe it," my older sister said, trying to keep it together. "I mean, how did this
happen?"
"This is just a guess," said my mom, "but he took some allergy medicine. Every day for a year.
We think that might have done something."
 "Allergy medicine?" said my older sister. "How does that even cause cancer?"
"Well," said my mom, "one day your father didn't have cancer, and after he started taking those
allergy pills he became sick. What conclusion do we draw here? Cancer doesn't come up magically,
does it?"
"What, what, what did the doctor say?" my older brother asked.
"The doctor's not a scientist," said my dad. "He didn't know squat. None of them know squat.
All they could tell me is that I have a few months left to live."
"Those ignorant fools," said my brother.
My family became silent for a moment...and then they all began crying. It was weird. They all
cried at the same time.
"Is that really your dad?" said Antonio.
"Yeah," I said, sobbing. "I knew the old man for a really long time. He was a bastard sometimes,
but there were good memories too. One time he abandoned me at the amusement park."
"That doesn't sound like a good memory," said Antonio.
"I got to ride the Vortex ten times," I said.
"I stand corrected," said Antonio.
I sighed, "I wish I could do something. But what am I to do? I'm just an ant."
As I watched my family sob, and grieve I noticed my sister using her smart phone. Really? Is
now the time to be doing that? I looked at the screen, and saw she was on one of those social media
websites. Doing what? Talking about how our dad has cancer. Sheesh. She was addicted to getting them
"likes." What the hell are they for? Do you get money for it? Can you trade them in for Bitcoins?
"Bloody hell," I said. "My sister's zoning out on her phone. Doing nonsense. Yo! Now's not that
time for that!"
"Let it go," said Antonio. "Humans are addicted to these things. Killing the moon is an easier
task than getting someone to put away their phone for a week."
"Strange analogy," I said with a sigh. "Very strange."
Antonio put his arm on me.
"Hey, pal," said Antonio. "I know you're feeling bummed about your dad, but I'm here for you.
Chin up?"
"Antonio," I said, "you can't ever make me feel better about this."
As I began walking away, filled with all these agitated emotions, there was a ringing at the front
door. My mom walked into the hallway, that was just some feet away from the kitchen, and answered
the door. I turned back to see. Who was it?
"Hello," said Allison.
"Allison," said my mom. "How are you?"
Allison?
"I'm fine," said Allison. "I heard about the news."
"So soon?" said my mom.
"I TOLD HER," my older sister said from inside the kitchen.
"Come in," my mom told Allison.
Allison came in, and went over to my dad. She put a hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry to hear the bad news," said Allison. She hugged him. "But who knows? Maybe you'll be
cured."
"It's terminal," said my dad. "I only have a few months left to live."
"Oh," said Allison. She didn't know what to say.
"Sit down," said my mom. "Eat."
"I'm not hungry," said Allison.
Allison took a seat. From the top of the fridge me, and Antonio stared down.
"Do you know her?" said Antonio. "She's pretty."
 Suddenly, I remembered everything. All that I had forgotten before had come back to me. I
knew this human being. She was no ordinary person. Her name was Allison, the girl that I once thought
was my soul mate -- and then she broke my heart into a trillion pieces. I never picked up all those
pieces, if I'm honest.
"Yeah," I said, "I know her. She's not just pretty. She's the most beautiful woman in the entire
universe."
"Man," said Antonio, "you have it bad."
"You don't know," I said. "She's special."
"Then go for it," said Antonio.
"I'm an ant!" I said. "How can I go for it? I'm not a part of her world. I belong to the bugs."
"So, what do you want me to do about it?" said Antonio. "I mean, it is what it is, and what it
isn't it is not, but what you think it might be, it probably isn't, you see."
"Sorry," I said, "I'm not sure what you just said."
"Forget about it," said Antonio. "She's a human, and you're an ant. You can't be together. Let's
just be happy with what we got. We're ants. Let's live as ants."
"I don't want to live as an ant," I said. "I want to be among the humans with Allison! I want to
be a part of her world! Being an ant sucks! I hate ants!"
Antonio gasped, "You take that back!"
"Never!" I said.
Antonio, and I started fighting. Meanwhile, my mom had asked Allison to get something from
the fridge. Allison got up, and opened the fridge door, searching for an orange.
I tried running towards Allison. Antonio, however, held me back as I was heading to the edge of
the fridge.
"Unhand me!" I yelled.
"You're not going to be accepted by her!" Antonio said. "She will squash you at first sight!"
"You don't know Allison," I said. "She's sweet, and she's kind to all creatures!"
"Your love for her is unhealthy," said Antonio. "You're being a fool."
"I am not a fool," I said. "I'm a fool in love!"
Then I broke away from Antonio, and ran towards Allison without a plan of what I was
supposed to do. I fell off the refrigerator top, and plummeted towards the floor. But then Allison shifted
her body ever so slightly, and I fell into her purse. I went through the zipper's gap, and found myself
shrouded in darkness.
"Oh, finally," said Allison, "I found that orange!"

75.

I was still in darkness. While in Allison's purse, I could hear her driving, and then she came out, and
started walking somewhere. I managed to stick my head out the gap in the zipper, and saw she had her
own real home now, which had the typical white picket fence, a two car garage, and a beautiful red
brick exterior that had red roses adorning it. I was envious that she was living in such a nice place. An
ant nest, it was not.
"Hello? Is anyone home?" said Allison.
Allison went into her home, and took off her shoes. Why was she acting so careful, like she was
a stranger in her own home? I didn't know. She went upstairs, and went into her bedroom, and placed
down her purse. She then went into the bathroom to change. I climbed out of her purse, and climbed
onto the dresser. I stayed near the back, so that if anyone spotted me, and tried to squash me, I could go
to the back, and use the piece of furniture as a shield.
In a moment's time, Allison returned. She was dressed very dull, wearing something that looked
like a sweat suit. Ugly but comfortable. She was approached the dresser, and I stood back. She pulled
open a drawer, and took out a year book.
She went to her bed with the year book, and there opened it up with a sigh. She slowly turned
the pages, looking at the photos.
I climbed up the dresser's mirror, and got to the top, so I could look down, and see what she was
seeing. I saw what Allison was looking at. Or who she was looking at. She was looking at a picture of
me. There was my head in a rectangle, with my name beneath it.
"Ah, good times," said Allison.
As my heart fluttered, at what I assumed was a compliment, there was a sound at the bedroom
door. Liam came in. He appeared disheveled, and messy. He smelled of cigarettes, alcohol, and cheap
food.
Even though I didn't admire his appearance right now he sure was a helluva lot more handsome
than me, and most of all he had Allison's heart. He was her husband, and for that I was more jealous
than I can describe. But together they made a beautiful couple.
Yeah, very beautiful. I guess that's how it is, innit?
Love is for the beautiful. Or the lucky. If you're not beautiful you better damn well hope you're
lucky.
"Allison," said Liam. "Why are you looking at you year book?"
Allison immediately shut her year book.
"N-no reason," she said. She nervously giggled. "Heh-heh-heh."
"Whatever," said Liam. "Allison, hey, guess what?"
"What?" said Allison.
"I'm in the mood," said Liam.
Oh, God. Liam stripped off all his clothes. Allison recoiled.
"I don't want to," said Allison.
"C'mon," said Liam. "What are wives for?"
He grabbed Allison's foot, and started pulling her in.
"Don't touch me!" Allison yelled.
She kicked with her free leg, and kicked Liam in his face. He stepped back, and wiped under his
nose which was bleeding.
"Oh, Liam, I, I'm so sorry," said Allison.
Allison carefully got up, and got some tissues. She went over to Liam, and dabbed the blood on
his face. Liam turned to her, and knocked the tissues out of her hand.
"You bitch!" he yelled.
"It was an accident," said Allison in a sheepish voice.
Liam pointed at her. "I do so much for you, and you can't even fuck me, and then you kick me
in the face? Who the hell do you think you are? Some sort of princess?"
"I'm not a princess," said Allison. "Would a princess be living like this?"
Allison... Poor Allison. I could see the pain on her face. She was trembling, and she had her
hands in front of herself, close to her chest, as if waiting for something to happen. I felt sorry for the
girl.
You know, love is a strange thing. It can bring light in a world of darkness, or it can steer you
right into a storm. For many it is a seizing emotion. It takes you, and grips you, and takes a hold of your
whole being, and you become a a prisoner to it.
It magnifies your emotions. The highs are the highest, but the lows are the lowest. You feel
everything times a thousand. You're nervous, and you're sensitive, and jumpy, and shaky. It's like every
time you see that person you love, you're about to fight. Yet all of it's in your mind. You're having this
unseen war in your brain. And in war, you do not think rationally. You think about survival. How do
you survive this onslaught of emotions that is caused by that which we call love?
If you're strong, maybe you cry once. Or twice. If you're weak, you'll do it almost every day.
You'll become a crumbling mess. You'll lose sight of what life really means. You dig yourself down into
a hole, and there you stay, until this person you love so much reaches their hand in, and helps to pull
you out. Sometimes that doesn't happen.
Right now, what was happening to Allison, it was the dark side of love. She was in a deep, dark,
dank, chasm of despair. Everything she thought about this person, this man she loved was wrong. The
veneer of gratitude, and kindness he had at first slowly over time eroded, and he revealed his true self.
He was a human monster -- a user of people. When he didn't get what he wanted he would try to tear
you apart, taking chunks of your flesh, and infecting your mind.
It's just too bad, I didn't know how to stop it. And Allison, I could see, was a changed person.
Instead of the vibrant, young, hopeful girl I once knew, she was tired, and older than she really was. It
was like there was a dark spirit in her body, holding her down, and making her weak, and foolish. She
was helpless. I prayed that she could find a way out of this.
"Allison," I cried. "Don't let him do this to you. You deserve better."
And then Liam started becoming angrier than ever before. He started shouting about how he,
and Allison had a dead bedroom, and that she wasn't doing her wifely duties, and that she was
worthless, and a pile of trash. Then he hit her. Once, and then once more. Then he pushed her up
against a wall, and with an open hand started striking her in flurries. It was an open hand, but these
were hard strikes. He was using the heel of his palm.
"You worthless bitch!" Liam yelled.
Allison was being battered, and could barely keep up her arms to block her own face.
I cried seeing this, and I yelled, "Liam, you bastard!"
But it didn't do any good. My voice was too small. I was too small. What could I do to help? I
was only an ant. I was a tiny, useless, insignificant creature. I was at the mercy of the world. I had no
powers. In my form everything seemed impossible. As far as my lot in life went, I wasn't even at the
bottom of the ladder. I wasn't on the ladder at all. I was half of an ant. I was an ant without wings, and I
had one missing leg, and a damaged antenna. I was about as useful as a piece of shit.
"Stop, stop," I heard Allison crying. "Why are you hitting me? I, I, I love you..."
"No, Allison," I said. "You shouldn't love him! He doesn't deserve your love! DAMN YOU TO
HELL, LIAM! I wish upon your soul that you could feel all of my pain, and suffering! You would
throw yourself off a building in an instant!"
Unfortunately, that never happened. Liam continued dishing out his unjustified punishment to
Allison, until his arms became tired. At that point, Allison was a bloodied, and bruised mess. She
looked half dead. My heart broke, and I wept seeing her face. I didn't know whether she would live.
The torment, and agony of seeing her hurt was too much to bear. The wretched feeling I got was an
even worse feeling than if it had happened to me instead.
I didn't understand this... How could anyone be so cruel to a person that they said they loved?
What do the words of love even mean when it is not backed by anything else?
"Liam! Liam, you bastard!" I screamed.
Liam turned around, and put his hands on his hips to catch his breath. The next moment, Allison
stood up, just barely, and stared at him through her blackened eye. What was she doing? She went over
to Liam, and tapped him on the shoulder.
Liam turned around. Allison pulled back her head, and then thrusting it forward spit on his face.
No ordinary spit, however. The spit was thick, mixed with blood, sweat, and tears.
Liam stood dumbfounded for a moment, and the next second he struck Allison with his elbow.
Allison fell down to the floor. On the floor, Allison laid perfectly still. She was motionless. You could
not even see the rise, and fall of her chest.
Liam stared down at her. There was a worried look on his face, but not because he was feeling
guilty, but because he was worried about getting in trouble for what he did.
"Allison?" he said. "Are you okay?"
 Liam wiped the sweat off his forehead.
"Oh, shit, oh shit," he said to himself in a panic. "If anyone finds out what I did, my life is
gonna be ruined. I can't let that happen to me. I've worked too hard for this...!"
After Liam put his clothes back on, he went around his room, and gathered all his necessities
into a suitcase. Then carrying it he left through the door, and headed downstairs. I heard him opening a
cupboard, and taking something out. Next, there was some sort of noise, like a jug emptying, and
splashing water on the floor. What was he doing?
As I began to figure it out, I could smell the smell of burning. A thick, black smoke was steadily
rising upstairs. Because Liam had set his home on fire...to get rid of the "evidence." He was every bit
the villain I thought he was, and he had escaped outside. Knowing that fires double every 30 seconds, I
had to act quickly.
I climbed down from my spot on the dresser, and went over to Allison. But there was nothing I
could do. I could only stare at her. I didn't even know if she was dead, or simply unconscious.
"Allison!" I said. "Wake up! You have to wake up!"
More smoke started filling the room. I started to panic. I had no idea what I could do. What
could I do as an ant? I was a small, insignificant, useless ant.
"No!" I told myself. "You can't think that way. Think positive for once in your life. Don't place
limitations on yourself. You're stronger than you know."
So, I put my mouth on Allison's foot, clamped down on whatever skin I could grab, and tried
pulling her along. NOPE. It was pointless. No matter how determined I was it didn't work. I couldn't
even move her a fraction of a centimeter. What was I thinking? I weighed less than a grain of rice.
Shit. Smoke was still filling up the room, and fast. I coughed, and coughed. I could feel it
burning inside of me. It was overwhelming. I felt dizzy. I had to escape, but didn't want to leave behind
Allison.
I wracked my brain trying to think of something, and as I was circling like a madman, my foot
got entangled in one of the fibers of the carpet floor. I pulled away, and freed myself. This gave me an
idea.
I climbed onto Allison, and went up her body, and onto her face. I stared at her. She was alive,
after all. I could feel her still warm skin. It was coursing with blood.
"Allison," I said, once again, "WAKE UP."
I saw Allison twitch. However, she was asleep it seemed, and not aware of the immense danger
she was in. I had to wake her up somehow. So, I went into her nose, grabbed onto a nose hair, and
ripped it out with all my strength.
The sharp pain made Allison awake. Her eyes opened, and she sat up, throwing me to the floor.
"Go, Allison!" I yelled. "Get out of here, lest the flames of your lover's hate engulf you!"
"What's happening?" said Allison.
She sniffed the air, and coughing realized that her house was on fire.
"FIRE," said Allison.
Allison, though injured, managed to get to her feet. I tried clinging onto her to follow, but could
not get a grip as she had run off too fast. She went to her bedroom door, and opened it, and found only
a roaring flame in the hallway.
"Liam!" she said. "Are you there?!?"
I couldn't believe it. Even though Liam himself had caused the fire, Allison was still concerned
about his well being. The madness of it all.
"Get out of here!" I told Allison.
Allison's eyes darted, looking for a way out. She spotted the window, and ran to it. She pulled it
open, and climbed out. Would she make it down? I didn't know. All I knew was that I was now in an
inextricable situation.
The flames had quickly expanded, and surrounded me. I couldn't find a way out. There was no
path of escape, and I suffered in the heat. So hot it was that I could feel my skin literally sizzling. I
cried in great pain, hoping by some miracle God, or someone else would help me.
That never happened. This was the final chapter of my life, and I died...as an ant. The storm of
fire had extinguished me. I was no more.

76.

Blackness. There was nothing but blackness, and silence. I didn't know whether I was dead, or alive. As
I waited for something to happen, I felt myself becoming lighter, and floating as if a balloon. My
nothingness gave me buoyancy.
And then suddenly my vision was restored. I found myself a spirit once more, except that I was
inside of a bubble. Though I did not panic. I felt safe, and calm. From within the bubble, I looked unto
the outside world.
Time was passing me by at an accelerated rate. Yet I stayed still. Everything was moving ahead
like it was on a fast forward. I was above it all, watching all these different events unfold. First, there
was the fate of Allison.
Allison had divorced Liam, who was arrested for arson, and attempted murder. I learned that he
didn't do too well in prison, and I'll leave it at that.
The next moment, I saw my family. They had all come together, and strengthened as a unit. My
mom, brother, and sister stuck by my dad's side, and through a change in diet, and medical marijuana
he made a recovery, and beat his cancer.
Antonio, I was pleased to say, lived out the rest of his life in my parents home. They were so
busy with their lives they never bothered to exterminate him. Antonio watched a lot of TV, and, ate, and
drank as he pleased. He died with a full belly.
As I was glad everything worked out, more scenes started going past my eyes. I remained in
place, un-moving, while many more scenes, and images flashed. Everything was on high speed, yet for
some reason I knew all about it, in detail, and I absorbed every bit that was presented to me. It was
almost like I was a part of the universe, feeling every movement of life.
I experienced a billion lives, and the people, plants, and creatures around me changed, and they
lived, and they grew, and they died as all things do.
I saw through the lens of God. I knew all the whys, and hows of every being. I saw their
struggles, and their successes, their worries, and doubts, and joys. After knowing this, I became less
judgmental about everyone, including the so called bad ones. They all had their scars from the thorns of
life. What should we expect from the wounded, and hurt? I dared not to point my fingers.
But I pointed my eyes -- to the Earth. It was a living, breathing creature, and it was turning, and
spinning, and changing. It was aging the same as a human being. I could see it progress, and decline, its
shapes, and colors shifting.
In what seemed too short of a time, the blue marble became dead. The sun ran out of fuel, and
became extinguished. Our solar system had become quiet, and the whole universe continued its gradual
march of expansion, but not in a way we would want. It was drifting apart.
Planets became alone, and disappeared, and the stars stopped shining, for the entire plane of our
existence became a cold, lifeless void. There was no light, and nothing to see. The universe had finally
run its course.
I put my face into my hands, and wept for its demise. I didn't understand it, why it had to end.
And then as fate would have it a single tear drop slipped through my fingers. It dropped through the
darkness, and bounced off of outer space, and became numerous points of light. The most beautiful
light anyone could ever see.
This light then cast itself throughout, and became a magnificent display of lights that reminded
me of fireworks.
 And finally, there was a big bang. So loud that I shuddered upon hearing it, and a shiver went
down my spine.
But afterwards, I felt a serenity, the most peaceful serenity I ever felt, and a booming voice said
to me: "You are not alone. I have swept away your pangs like a cloud, and your sins like a morning
mist. Return where you belong for you have been redeemed. You are a new creation. The old has gone.
Behold, what has come."
Instantaneously, the universe began forming again. The stars became bright once more, and the
planets teemed with texture, and life. All the celestial bodies moved back into their proper places, and
everything worked as fine as a Swiss made clock, with all the parts, and pieces operating in perfect
synchronization.
The heartbeat of our world returned, and its sound heralded another chance to do better.

I found myself back on Earth. As a human. Submerged under the mighty sea. I was drowning. A weed
had wrapped around my leg, and was keeping me below. I bent at the waist, and pulled on it. The weed
proved stronger than I imagined. I reached down, with my head, and used my teeth. I bit the weed to
tear it apart.
Then I was freed. I kicked to propel myself upward. I opened my mouth, and coughed, and took
the salty air into my lungs. I motioned my arms against the opposing current, and crashing waves that
slapped my face. I was barely able to keep myself afloat. The water kept trying to take me away to a
watery gravy.
But I wouldn't let that happen. Using every ounce of energy I had left in my body, I swam. I
swam as hard as I could. By some miracle, I made it to the shore. Sapped of strength, I crawled on my
hands, and knees in the sand. To where? I didn't know. I wanted to get away from the sea.
"Are you okay?" I heard a familiar voice.
I looked up. Allison was standing above me, holding out her hand. I took her hand, and she
helped me to my feet. She put my arm around her shoulder, and supported me as we walked.
"What are you doing at the beach?" I asked her.
"I was worried about you," said Allison. "I know that you like coming to the beach, and staring
at the water when you're sad. So, uh, I guess I kinda stalked you."
I snickered. "It's not stalking, if I want you here."
"Thanks," said Allison, "but you really shouldn't be swimming out here like this, all on your
own. It's dangerous."
"Yeah, ah-ha-ha," I fake laughed. "How silly of me."
Allison nodded. Then at that moment, I stopped walking, and turned to her. Even though I
couldn't make proper eye contact, she fixed her eyes on me.
"Allison," I said.
"Yes," she said.
"Can I tell you something?" I asked nervously. Hesitantly.
"Of course," said Allison in the gentlest voice possible. "What is it?"
"I didn't come to the beach for a swim," I said.
"Oh," said Allison.
"But you knew that, didn't you?" I said.
"I suspected," said Allison.
"I'm depressed," I said. "I'm in pain...and I tried killing myself."
Allison became silent.
"Are you going to go away now?" I said. "Because I'm too much of a burden? I'm not happy,
and positive like the world wants me to be. I'm scary, aren't I? I'm like a monster."
"You're not a monster," said Allison. "You're human."
"It's pathetic, isn't it?" I said.
 "Whatever it is," said Allison, "you need help."
"Who's gonna help me?" I said.
"Me," said Allison.
"You want to help me?" I said.
"We're friends," said Allison. "What are friends for?"
"Heh," I said. "You care about me -- don't you?"
"Yes," said Allison, "I do. Because I know how it is. A lot of people, they only care about
themselves. At first you don't believe it, then they use you, or they let you down, or they hurt you. Or
all three. Worse they don't even seem to give two damns. They're stuck in their own little world, and
that's all that matters. But I don't wanna be like that. I wanna be different. I want to care. Right now you
don't feel like anyone cares, but that's not true. I'm here for you. You're not alone. I know I'm only one
person, but all you need in your life is one good person. Right?"
I firmly nodded in agreement.
"I'm proud of you," said Allison.
"Proud? Why?" I said.
"For being honest," said Allison. "You told me the truth. Yeah. Not a lot of people can do that.
It's a hard thing to do. You took the risk of opening up to me, and now you can start to heal."
"Does this mean I have to a see a doctor?" I asked.
"Of course," said Allison.
"I dunno," I said.
"If you had a broken arm," said Allison. "Would you ignore it?"
"No," I said.
"Then why's trying to heal your mind any different?" said Allison. "If you're sick see a doctor.
I'll be there to help you through the process."
"Promise you won't leave me?" I asked. "Even if I seem clingy?"
"Everyone's clingy," said Allison. "They just don't like to admit it. So, yeah, I won't leave you."
"Thanks," I said. "You're the best friend anyone could ever have."
Allison smiled, and began leading me away from the beach.
"C'mon," she said.
"Where're we going?" I asked.
"To a restaurant to eat," said Allison. "Aren't you hungry?"
"I'm hungry as hell," I said.
"Good," said Allison. "We'll have a feast."
"I don't think I can afford a feast," I said.
"My treat," said Allison.
"Thanks," I said. "Thanks times a million."
"You're welcome," said Allison with a smile.

Allison, and I left the beach. We took her car to a nice, little restaurant on the outskirts of town. We ate
well, and we laughed, and shared stories. We also talked about our lives. Where we were going. What
we were doing.
And we came to understand each other more than ever before. Allison, and I became close. A
new bond formed that I could hardly describe, like two people after they survived a disaster together.
We knew that everything would be different from now on.

77.

The seasons changed, and the world kept turning as it usually did, but my life was different now. I got
the help I needed. Allison too. We helped each other out, and made a formidable team.
 Alas, we never became a couple. Sometimes you don't ever get what you really, really want.
Although I wasn't depressed about it, because Allison had found her own happiness, and I think I did
too. Finally, I gained a place in the world. I didn't become a writer like I had always wanted, but I had a
career as an editor for the last remaining newspaper in my city, and there I met someone quite lovely.
We had a family, together, and two kids: one boy, and a girl. They grew up, and my son became
a policeman, and my daughter a nurse. They had kids of their own. Then I became a grandfather. I
turned old faster than I would have liked. It all seemed to go by in the blink of an eye.
However, I never forgot anything. It was a roller coaster ride. There were ups, and a lot of
downs. Regrets, and joyful moments. Day to day it was never the same. Something always had to
happen, and I was constantly on my feet.
That is until my wife passed away when I was 89 years old. Right on my birthday, too. She
passed away in her sleep. Upsetting, yet you think that's the way it should be. Then your thoughts go to
your own mortality, since you know it's your turn next.
I tried not to let that bother me. I told myself to think positive. After all, today was generous,
and unseasonably warm. It was the 13th of December, and 23 degrees Celsius out. Not a snow flake in
sight. So, I got my rocking chair, and with a great struggle, took it all the way up to the roof of my
retirement home.
I carefully placed it down. I sat in it, and faced the sky. I relaxed, and watched the sun slowly
rise behind a cloud. As I rocked back, and forth a soothing, orange glow kissed my skin. I knew now
that it was time to go. I had lived long enough. This was to be the last chapter of my life.
I went into my pocket, and took out a small gift box. I opened the gift box, and inside was a
perfectly black scorpion. I took this scorpion, and held it in my palm. For a while nothing happened,
and then the scorpion, frightened by a gust of wind, stung me with its hooked tail.
I didn't flinch. My arm simply went limp, and the scorpion fell to the ground, and scurried off.
My breathing slowed down, and I leaned back into my chair. I started to cry. Tears gently rolled down
my cheeks.
But not because I was sad. I wasn't sad. I had hope... Allison, and I would meet again.

THE END