Tuesday, November 20, 2007

popov's revenge

The boy watched the ants closely. They worked continuously, no pausing, no resting. Awe-inspiring how they took tiny pieces and built huge colonies and tunnels and nurseries and pantries and god-knows-what-else. It was so intricate. Prodigious engineering wonders. Miracles of nature.

Feeling truly god-like by size and comparison, the boy raised his foot (or rather, holy instrument of justice) in order to administer a transcendental whoop-ass to his protectorate. In his blood-lust, he never noticed the oak behind him splintering near-noiselessly and receding to its new home on the earth.

Somewhere, a mime laughed out loud.

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