Jimmy loved watching fire ants scavenge and march at the base of his driveway. Their prescriptive, chemical lives pleased some deep, orderly part of him — he couldn’t articulate this comfort at his young age, but knew he loved the warmth — the destiny — they inspired. One late summer’s day, a rogue chain of insects hitched off its tracks, regrouped in the dirt, and shaped the words “SAVE US” in living letters. Being 3, Jimmy couldn’t read, and so the prescient colony tasted oblivion in the bristles of an overnight street sweeper.



2 thoughts on “25.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s