As I watch a multitude of ants perform a funeral march. I grieve for ant # 20,003,345. Who was said to have been a good provider and a dear friend to all those who knew him. In one straight line I see a sketch of a life that I might've taken for granted. Who knows? One can never really sure about these things. As I watch grandma ant fight a losing battle with a crumb as she cries into a handkerchief, I too become histrionic & give way to a flood of tears that I've left stranded years back. At this moment, I take a vow to never exercise my power to stomp on these little unsuspecting social insects from the family Formicidae. I promise too, not to blow on them, or execute a little one who is alone, gorilla- warfare-style with my middle finger. No matter how much wrong they've done me. I will keep my hands to myself.