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The feelings of an ant
prose [ ]
The anthill

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by [mircealupu ]

2009-08-17  |     | 



One may think that there is not much to be said about an ant.
There are dog lovers, cat lovers, fish lovers. In the pets' world there is not much room left for an ant.
They look so odd that sometimes people keep them in small boxes just for fun.
To understand an ant you should see the world through its little eyes, as if a fairy had turned you into a cricket. The story goes that once upon a time there was a cricket like that wandering in the grass, cursed by a fairy for the sin of having destroyed an anthill and only the kiss of an ant could have broken the spell.
In those times ants were wearing long billowing skirts, and were walking two by two along small paths no larger than a thumb, with large umbrellas provided with two tiny slots for their antennas.
The cricket bought himself a guitar and tried to impress them, but the ants were so engaged in discussions about how to gather the crops and store the grains that no one heard it.
One night the cricket was lying in a bed made of small twigs, when the sound of approaching footsteps and cracked wood woke it up. A small ant was carrying a big basket on its back along the path.
The cricket jumped out of its bed and asked the ant- may I be of any help to you? The ant reluctantly accepted that the cricket helps her with the basket up to its home. On their way home the ant was silent but after a while the little insect became more expansive -do you see that leaf- my aunt lives under it, and… that button- I was there when it fell down from the sky !
Look to the right, there is a strawberry! The cricket said- are you not afraid of spiders? Why are you walking in the middle of the night with this basket on your back? The ant answered- I am not afraid. If I see a spider I hide myself inside the basket- it is empty. I work all day long. I am walking at night because I need to talk to somebody. This is the truth. Please don't go away. I am not as odd as you think. You were so kind to help me with my basket and I vowed to talk only to kind people. I am using this basket to find kind people.
The cricket looked at the ant, and then stopped to pick a forget-me-not flower ten times smaller than those we know and handed it to the ant. The ant whispered "I like flowers" and wanted to kiss the cricket on its cheeks. But the cricket ducked for fear that the ant's kiss would break the spell and it would never see its ant again. Why did you do that the ant said. It is not what you think. I ate garlic today answered the cricket. Don't worry ant, I like you. Are you sure? Yes ant. Tomorrow morning I will help you with your grains for the winter. Then we will sit by the fire and will tell stories all the winter. The ant dashed towards the cricket and kissed it.
The spell was broken. The cricket was turned again into a man. The ant slowly got inside its basket with downcast eyes and silently cried all the night. The cricket deceived me !
The boy bent over and combed the nettles and the grass but he couldn't see the ant hidden in its basket. The winter came and went, the boy was looking at the thick layer of snow but there was no trace of its ant.
The next autumn, as he was wandering the streets, he came across an old woman. He recognized her and begged the fairy to turn him into a cricket again, this time for good. The next day, at sunset the cricket saw the ant carrying the same big basket on its back. The cricket approached the ant and said: let me help you with this basket. I don't need this basket anymore the ant said.
I have you.

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