When Disaster Strikes
This is a very short flash story about ants...or rather, about what happens to ants when they invade my kitchen garbage can. I feel sorry for them, really. They're industrious and fascinating to watch. But sometimes they just get to be too much.
This is just a little flash story about ants. Enjoy!
Disaster is like a ninja; lurking in the shadows, waiting for the most opportune moment then striking swift and silent. Once it has done its work, it fades away again into the darkness leaving no one to blame. The day disaster enacted its vengeance, no one was expecting it. The world held a bounty that spoke of health and happiness for all. No one had done anything to draw disaster to them, nor did they think they were deserving of what was to come.
They moved along the pathway set down by their predecessors to the work site that seemed like an endless supply of everything they needed and wanted to survive. Hundreds of workers flowed back and forth, transporting the wealth back to their home. They had been doing this work for hours, rushing to fulfill the needs of their friends and families. The disaster came with little warning; nothing more than sounds booming in the sky far away from their tireless work.
The first wave struck the work site itself. Hundreds of workers were carried away when the rim of the valley was whisked off through the air. Those left behind had no idea what had happened to their compatriots, but those who had the misfortune of being in the wrong place, soon found themselves inundated by a monsoon of heated rain. Many died quickly and were washed away in the flooding, but the few to survive the onslaught found themselves pulled into a deep, dark vortex into oblivion where they met their own fate.
Back at the work site, confusion and chaos reigned. There were screams and cries for the missing as news traveled back to their home. Then the work site itself moved away from the well-trodden path, stealing away yet more of the industrious workers. These workers were safe for the moment though, as disaster turned its eyes on those who still covered the long path. There were hundreds more here, many unsure what they were to do with themselves.
A thick, white fog of foul-smelling chemicals fell over the path. It swept down from the top, crushing and rolling the travelers' bodies. Most didn't survive as they were swept down the hard pathway. Those that did gasped and screamed with the chemicals as they burned their lungs. Existence didn't last long, however, as wave after wave of the blanketing fog washed over them.
The fog wasn't held only to the path, though. Soon it dropped into the middle of the work site, carrying the bodies of its victims with it. The remaining workers tried to scramble away, horrified by the smell and the sight of their dead and dying friends. Their escape was not to be. The work site closed in around them, trapping them in the bounty they once cherished and pressing them into the lingering white fog. Soon the entire work site moved again, floating through the air. It was carried far away from where it had originally been, leaving any survivors hopelessly lost, far from their home.
There were few left now, only a handful out of hundreds. They were brave and wandered the destroyed path, searching for their lost loved ones. Once they realized all hope was gone, they retreated back to their home. Destruction had won this day, leaving them with nothing. But the few left behind were industrious and determined. They would seek out another bounty, or perhaps return to this one once the memories faded. Life would go on.