Ants on a Sunday

I woke up this morning to discover my arms were sore and aching. When I stood up they hung limply against my sides. I am getting heavier, I thought, this is part of the ageing process. Or the fattening process. I am putting on so much weight that my body aches carrying around so much weight. What a depressing thought to wake up to!

Then when I went upstairs, I was greeted with so much sunshine from the windows, I was happy again. And even when I saw that the ants were devouring the chocolate sea-shells, still in their box, I didn't get angry. They are one of God's creatures after all and need to eat something, so I didn't disturb them but rescued whatever untouched chocolates there were on a piece of tissue paper and ate them. Or eating them this very moment. The scene with the ants reminded me of the passage Gabriel Garcia Marquez wrote in One Hundred Years of Solitude when the ants carried away the baby that Aureliano Babilonia left in the basket at the end of the book. Such a morbid thing, but true though, these ants will eat anything. Especially tropical jungle ants.

Ants are everywhere.

But the thought of my new short hair, and the freedom it brings, and the warm sunshine on a Sunday still makes me cheerful. Despite the ants eating the box of chocolates that I only just opened last night. I should never have left them on the coffee table. These ants will eat anything sweet.