June 28

I walk in the footsteps of the ant -- the ant who must forage to survive.   In the darkness, in my kitchen cabinet, he finds the top edge of a water glass and perches on it.  He makes a full circle, at which point his tiny skull server instructs him to stop, recognizing that he has been here before.   He must consider an alternative path.  But there is none, and he marches forward, endlessly, until his death by dessication.