We’re all capable of being ants…

I’m sitting outside and the small black ants are around. Climbing on my feet and legs. I am the ant hill…nothing more, nothing less. They climb over me to get from one place to another. Occasionally they bite. It’s a hot, burning sting. If it’s hurts enough, I quickly smash my heel into the opposing foot, just to stop the pain. Thus killing the ant. For biting me, unprovoked. It’s not justice. It’s unfair. The others, they bite sometimes, it’s mild and I simply brush them off, gently, so they can continue their journey without me being a part of the terrain. Still, the ones that bite and bite twice, I kill as a reaction to pain. Not thinking, just a reaction. I’m left to deal with that. We all bite hard sometimes. Like the ant, it’s in our nature. We will all end, in some fashion or another. I just hope I don’t bite too hard.

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