Every year, when it warms up, I get to see flying ants make it past the mosquito screen in my window. They then spend the rest of their lives trying to make it back out.
When I have time, I help them, but there are times that it happens overnight or when I'm away. I see their little corpses on the sill.
I've never known what lures them in. They never venture far. It just seems like a sad existence -- finally achieving something, and then spending the rest of your life trying to revert it.
Mariel García-Montes /
npub1v6…j208u
2024-06-13 21:12:07
Author Public Key
npub1v66gd4xey08qj5gknlyemjyvhuedp70w8wvmahcwkasll7g537aqlj208uPublished at
2024-06-13 21:12:07Event JSON
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