Ant's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Ant dragged himself through the park, eyes on the ground. The leaf pressed into his back with every step. It had been there when he woke up this morning. It was there yesterday. It would be there tomorrow. He wanted to be rid of it more than anything, but he had learned that wanting changed nothing. He passed the same worn circle in the dirt he had passed a hundred times before. The grooves curved in a perfect ring where his leaf had scraped the ground, round and round, during all those times he had tried. Tried to shake it off. Tried to leave it behind. The marks were deep now, carved by years of the same useless hope. Ahead, a small mound rose from the path. Tunnels dotted its sides. Other ants moved in and out, carrying things, building things, living without weight. Ant stopped at the entrance. He twisted his body and felt the leaf shift. For a moment, he let himself imagine setting it down inside one of those dark tunnels and walking out alone. He stepped closer to the mound and lowered himself, pressing his back against the ground. The leaf slid off and landed in the dirt beside him. Ant stood and walked three steps away. He looked back at it lying there, vibrant and green, the veins still perfect after all this time. Then he turned and kept walking, his back bare and light. He did not let himself hope. He had done this before. Tomorrow he would wake up, and it would be there again. But today, just for now, he could feel nothing.