Photo credit: Esther Bubley
Sara put her finger in the ant’s path. It backtracked momentarily, then crawled onto her finger.
“Look at this ant,” she said. “Think about everything that it’s oblivious of.”
“Mm hmm.” I kept my eyes on my book. I knew—and didn’t like—where this was headed.
I swung the door open and extended my arms. “Hey,” I said.
“Hi,” she said, walking past me, straight up to my room.
I went up after her. “Is there something you wanna say?”
Tears streaked her cheeks when she said, “I don’t think we can walk this path anymore.”
Photo credit: Thomas Leuthard
I’m at the neighbourhood coffee shop sipping on a bottle of beer. Visits here are always a quiet affair. The customers tend to be alone, just like today. Some are nursing beer bottles, while others tuck into their dinners for one. I’m aware of my flatter-than-usual jeans pocket, because I left my phone at home today. It doesn’t matter. I could use some time apart from the internet anyway.