Carpenter Ant: Week in Review

Carpenter Ant: Week in Review
by Le Hinton
MondayI’ve never quite understood why I never get to wear wings. I’ve petitioned the Pope and explained to him why I should have them, but he instructed me to have my friends write to the
Vatican with evidence of my worthiness. All my friends are busy hauling dead wood back to the nest or wherever the Queen, (God save her) wants us to pile it. Anyway, they never learned to write. Why not me? I could fly as well those monkeys in that old movie I once saw. Evidence? What about the allegories I write that everyone seems to like? After a hard day of work, there is nothing like a salient allegory; the other ants snap their pincers in appreciation, like beatniks in a café listening to Ted Joans.
TuesdayI strained my thorax today. I must have moved 18 pounds of wood all by myself. It seems like such a waste, just moving dead wood from one place to another. Couldn’t we do something else with the wood? Back when I was a young ant, Dad told me that wood that didn’t have leaves connected to it was dead. Humans, a soft-shaped species with generally cold hearts, burn the wood because the flaws in their genetic makeup cause them to feel a chill more that the rest of us. However, some of those humans create furniture, reshaped pieces of wood to sit on. They tend to sit a lot. I know that I can make furniture.
WednesdayMy antennae aren’t working today. George, the klutzy ant, ran into both of them and now they hurt. What a cretin, but he’s the queen’s favorite. I can’t wait until his time is up. I had a dream last night. I had two arms with sinews throughout, strong Black hands, and opposable thumbs. Two, yes only two legs. My best friend, Greg had arms and legs too and helped me create a beautiful armoire. When I told him about the dream, he told me not to tell anyone. “They might start thinking that you are getting too big for your exoskeleton.” But he should have seen the beautiful cherry wood and ornately turned legs. It was near perfect, inspired. I can’t wait to go back to sleep. I have a great idea for a bench.
ThursdayI saw an angel today. We were crawling around inside of a house with eight floors. On the top floor, there was an old lady sitting in a rocking chair, however, the chair wasn’t moving. I am sure that she was dead, but there was a glow about her. Her skin was almost regal ebony in color. I swear that there was a smile on her face. She reminded me of Grandmom after she died. That was the only time that I saw Dad cry. I remember he glanced up, looked directly at me, and said, “We were lucky to have her.” I thought of the moment later that month when I found Dad’s dried shell. I miss him.
FridayToday, some malefactor poured liquid on me. At first I thought that it was just water because there is always some very kind human who wants to find out whether we can swim. However, it was some acid, vinegar I think. I’m a simple carpenter ant, so I may be wrong. I don’t feel well. After the initial pain, I began to feel as if all of my insides were slowing. My legs feel heavy.
Saturday
Sunday

Hi, Dad, I have black hands.