It was hard being an ant. The queen in my hole was so strict, she never allowed fun nights or breaks from endless hunting. We were hardly allowed to eat anything we hunted down anyway, it was all for our greedy queen. Behind her back I loved the princess, the one who would step up to be the new queen if our one died. We would run away in the night, laughing, getting up to mischief. One night, I stood on a kitchen bench in Texas. The air was warm and slightly uncomfortable, but my Jessie enjoyed it, so I endured it. She was nibbling delicately on a gigantic, electric blue jellybean I had found. She was so beautiful, the warm midnight air seeming to enhance her gorgeous features, The moon shining on her and giving her a pale silver glow.
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