Queuing up on the autobahn in Germany on our way back from a weekend in Erfurt. Autumn chilling the stunted fields, undressing the trees. Ahead, the blazing lights and sirens of an ambulance nudging through. We wait for minutes that leak into a frustrated hour. Bored drivers and passengers trudge up the verge for a peek, waving each other on to come and view the cause of their stalemate. Their cars and lives going nowhere.
I jump the road barrier and bolt into a wood to relieve myself by a tree. Looking down I notice a vast line of ants, teaming back and forth in busy millions. I had drowned hundreds before I realised. A guilty god, I redirect my torrent of random deluge and ask the ants to forgive me. No individual loss for them, just replacement. There’s a sudden excitement beeping from my wife and I rush back, unaware I had hitchhikers on my shoe. My wife is waving at me, all smiles and tidal urgency. Her waving reminds me of every other time she waves at me from windows: her frantic arm pebbles me into worrying if this is the last time, if this parting pain is the most important current in the universe, reminding me to love her more than I can manage - when the water subsides. The police wave us on, wanting to get traffic moving, the show over. We drive off slowly and skulk past the wreckage of an overturned removals van, the junk of life scattered on the road. No sign of the driver - perhaps already whisked away. No blood signs, just broken promises of delivery. We stay quiet, thinking of the times we have moved, the luck we’ve had. Within seconds, impatient cars roar past. The lack of a speed limit a lesson already forgotten. Back in the woods, the ants ignore the damp soil, the fallen comrades, the inexplicable footprints of God, and keep on marching. One ant appears in the car later on, antennae twitching with questions. Too late to return it to the clan, I let it wander off on a pointless search for meaning in the dark corners of the car.
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AuthorA poetic-essay style blog with a limit of 365 words. 365 like the days of the year - my name being one of those days! Archives
March 2020
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