Fucking flies all over me, in my house. And ants who come in seeking water. It’s a hundred and eight degrees and I’ve left some chicken bones in the trash and instantaneously dozens of flies appear; swirling around the kitchen like that witch woman’s planetary machine in THE DARK CRYSTAL. What the fuck are those things called. Something-ary. Anyway, like one of those things. Throw away the chicken and immediately, flies. Their life cycle is so short– born, maggot, fly, fuck, shit die. Do they even eat as adults, or do they just look for a place to lay eggs. They’re dying of natural causes now and the chicken bones have only been in there for three days. I am forced to contemplate the fleeting nature of life. Fucking flies.
Born, baby, eat, adult, fuck, shit, die. In the span of geological time our lives are three days long; we’re born in a trash can eating a chicken bone, we fuck and make a baby once or twice if we’re lucky, and we fucking die glued to the window, trying to get out into the sun. We just want to die outside.
The ants are at war with the flies. Or it’s not a war, it’s a massacre. The ant colony that lives by my toilet discovered a nest of fly larvae under the rug near the kitchen and now the whole kitchen floor is just long spidery lines of ants, dragging huge fat fly grubs out on to the tile where they can slay them. It’s single combat, usually– there are thousands of ants but the fight is one ant versus one grub. The grub is ten times bigger than the ant, thrashing around; they often get some distance away, but the ants always prevail. The ant gets on top of the grub’s tail and just clamps on and bites and bites until the grub stops thrashing.
It’s a weird thing to walk over barefoot to get coffee in the morning but I appreciate that the ants are doing this for me. They probably live about three days as well but at least they’re living and struggling in the service of something larger, right? The ants are building something; they are part of something. There is a life lesson in the ants. But I don’t want to know what it is, I’m just gonna sweep the whole mess into a dustpan and dump it down the sink.