troops of tiny ants

Tummy down on a yoga mat, my nose is six inches from a deep crack in the cement. At the same time, I’m gazing from a great height through the airplane window of my reading glasses, where the crack appears as a deep ravine running through unforgiving desert lands. Such bold adventurers, the troops of tiny ants, so often caravanning through, must be to traverse the great terrain of my bedroom floor.

[the next day...]

I killed the highway of ants running in and out of my shower, with an Empire State building-sized can of bug spray, while I was peeing.

Sometimes I wonder if humans look like ants to Mother Nature.

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