(no subject)
I noticed a swarming ant farm that had found their colony around some old shingles the roofers had discarded last night as I walked up the driveway cradling groceries. I can’t even explain the degree of ants; the shingles were animated. So I yelled to BJ to come check it out. Admittedly, I grabbed a piece of vinyl near by and nudged them to watch them writhe; it was fascinating... Just then BJ seized some kind of apparatus from his truck. Aaron laughed, “A torch!” Before I could even realize what was happening I was squinting down at the black, still ruins of the ant colony, stomping out the smoke with my new work shoes that I didn't really like anyway. It took awhile to pull myself away from the scene, gaping and feeling like whatever force must feel like when wiping out entire villages from some vantage point of a natural disaster. The depression from the experience set in as I was touching up the livingroom paint later. I thought about the resentment I felt for my neighbor for letting the ants in my mail-order ant farm die while I was on vacation in first grade.
And as he placed his hand on my lacey ass last night in bed and groaned "I love you baby", the way he does when he wants sex -- it was a failed effort for maybe the first time.
And as he placed his hand on my lacey ass last night in bed and groaned "I love you baby", the way he does when he wants sex -- it was a failed effort for maybe the first time.