I escape the house and run, crying, into the backyard. Examining hand-shaped bruises on my small body, I notice an anthill. Yesterday, I watched these ants a long time. Today is different. Raging, I stomp the anthill flat. Ants scurry in panic and writhe in pain.
It doesn’t help much.
Sam Gem is a writer of flash fiction, short stories, and maybe a novel someday. He resides in upstate New York.