We Are Not a Colony of Ants_THE SPICE OF LIFE_The Guardian_Hypocrisy
Catalog Guide:
We Are Not a Colony of Ants
One by one, she watched the dark lines wriggle up and down, to and from the tunnel entrance in the center. Following foot to feeler, ant after ant after ant wrapped in random yet neat patterns like a spirograph inside the tiny formicarium. She watched for another minute, breathing evenly, and thinking about what life meant to the tiny creepy crawlers.“Dad?”“Yes, Adala.”“Do ants go into stasis the same as us?”“Ants are insects. They aren’t warm-blooded mammals like us, so it’s different.”Adala poised her finger to tap on the plastic frame of the ants’ home but restrained herself. She and her fa...
THE SPICE OF LIFE
The show was about to start; a concert in which my daughter at both the planning and performance stages was heavily involved. It had been my intention to enjoy this with a friend, but sadly she was uwww.onedoor.ccnwell and as a result, there was an empty seat beside me, which, given my love for music did not upset me unduly. I glanced at the programme not recognising the names, save of course the chief accompanist, Sally. At twenty-five, Sally was shaping up to lead a second life; but that I mean her day job was in reception, but she did a few music gigs some evenings. I had done the same a few moons past,...
The Guardian
Walking haltingly, I still feel the burn on my head and my face. My abdominal just feel terrible, like an internal blender was placed inside, stirring and it makes me feels nausea. I had a crutch on my right side. It was always with me. However, I've never felt a mixture of both loves and hate towards it. I love it because it supports my limbs that act like jelly at this moment; hates it because it made me lose. Vulnerable to save that deer. ‘Useless’ is the word that I keep cursing myself for thousand times. On the opposite of the street, Ms.Marley was waiting for me over the coffee shop. Sh...
Hypocrisy
Frankie turned and groaned, his shoulders slumping. Shutting his locker door after ensuring Michaela was out of the way (as her locker was immediately below), the preteen started asking Trey why he couldn’t just give up his obsession about the Revolutionary War. Yes, Frankie himself was obsessed with the 80’s and Michael Jackson, but this obsession was because of the awesomely cool music meant just to be rocked out to. Could Trey have picked a dorkier era? Guess not. Frankie stifled a sigh and ripped his headphones off, forcing a smile onto his face. He wished he had eaten an onion, lettuce a...