The heat of the sun would have drawn forth the moisture from my skin, had I possessed such a faculty. With weary steps, we roamed the barren landscape, seeking prey to snatch from the jaws of our rivals. I marvelled at how swiftly I had grown accustomed to this savage life. Should I not have felt some pang of regret or remorse, some longing for a nobler existence? Had I so easily adapted to this brutish condition? . . .It was a riddle beyond my ken. Nor could I share my thoughts with any of my companions, for their throats were harsh and guttural, unfit for the delicate articulation of the English language. We had never exchanged a word since my arrival in this desolate world.
Dolphins utilize a vast assortment; having a mention-worthy repertoire to call attention to each other. They use sounds, such as clicks, whistles, chirps, and burst pulses, to echolocate their surroundings, identify themselves, and talk to each other. They also use body language, such as leaping, slapping, spy hopping, and bumping, to show their emotions, warn of danger, or play with each other. Dolphins have a complex social structure and a high level of intelligence, which makes their communication fascinating to study.
Why wasn't I recreated as a dolphin? Is this my calling? If so, I hate it. I don't want it. What am I even supposed to say? Something like: "Hi, I'm an ant. You probably don't notice me much, but I'm always busy working for my colony. I have a lot of sisters and brothers, and we all have different roles. Some of us are foragers, some are soldiers, some are nurses, and some are builders. I'm a builder. I help to dig tunnels and chambers in the soil, where we store our food and raise our young. It's hard work, but I enjoy it. I like to see the progress we make every day, and how we cooperate as a team. Sometimes, we encounter obstacles or enemies, like rocks or spiders, but we always find a way to overcome them. We are very resilient and adaptable. Life as an ant is not easy, but it's fulfilling. I'm proud to be part of this amazing society"?
I laughed for a good minute or so. That's way too convenient. It's also the most cliche monologue I've ever heard. Do you recall the "It's hard work, but I enjoy it" line? I'd say pretty much every cartoon in the world has that part embedded in their scripts as if the universe itself made it a rule for all to say such happy-go-lucky things.
One might make mention that info-bombing your readers is a surefire way to bore them. It ruins immersion deeply. Who needs all that lore when they can just jump into the battlefield?
The hours winded away as I kept daydreaming. By the end of the day, our forage was largely a success. We had to ignore one of our mates collapsing, likely because his body have up. Even if I wanted to, options were non-existent for me to employ a helping hand. Plus, I bet nobody was going to cry for him.
The division between the wild and the domestic is rather cut-dry. The wild do not have funerals in their honour. Only those lucky enough to be registered dead on an official level can have memorials set.
It's the bureaucracy's fault! They're still holding power over people even after they pass! Shameful!
***
Should I start praying? Or should I take the atheism route? The answer is elusive, but deliberation is necessary to maintain sanity. In such stressful episodes, most would either go to a therapist or take the drug-abusing route. . . Only one problem here. . . None of those is even possible. I can't vent to anyone, I can't smoke, I can't drink, and certainly can't pop pills. This should be fuuuun~
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree tops~ don't lift your head, just drift it away~
People should pay me to lull their children to bed. My voice is just magical, even if it no longer exists at this point.
Ouch!
***
My mind was ever restless, tormented by questions without answers. I had the habit of thinking too much and acting too little, of telling rather than showing, of wishing rather than seeking. What was the purpose of this futile exercise? Why did I persist in this vain pursuit of truth? Was it not the common lot of humanity, to be content with ignorance and ease, to shrink from the challenge of the unknown?
But comfort was far from my reach.
Thump!
The familiar pang struck me again.
Thump!
I groaned in agony.
Thump!
What had I done to deserve this?
Thump!
I tried to recall what I was pondering before the pain interrupted me. Ah, yes. It was a punishment, no doubt, for daring to question my condition. A heinous crime, worthy of torture; the infliction of physical suffering. How much had I offended the world with my thoughts, I wondered. And how much more would it make me pay?
The hope of rescue was long gone. It was useless to even entertain the idea. I had considered the possibility of some malevolent entity experimenting on me for its amusement, but that seemed implausible. What was there to interest anyone in me? I was nothing but an ordinary fellow, fond of games and music (a common enough trait, shared by millions across the globe). Hardly worth experimenting on, really.
Was it some cosmic anomaly?
Thump!
Perhaps I had hit upon the truth. There was no precedent for such a phenomenon as host-to-host migration, as far as I knew. No record or report of it in any media or history book. I might have been the first victim of this bizarre occurrence.
Thump!
This was intolerable. My head was spinning, and I felt faint.
Thump!
Was this the end? Was death approaching? Surely not!
Thump!
I collapsed on the ground, unable to stand. My legs were numb, refusing to obey my will. I was a prisoner in this alien body, bound by invisible chains.
Was there a meaning to this? A message hidden in this mysterious ordeal? It could not be a mere accident of fate.
I reasoned from analogy. When humans suffer from headaches, there is always a cause behind them. A common mistake is to rely on painkillers, without addressing the root of the problem. A foolish practice, but widespread nonetheless.
But ants were different. They looked alike (perhaps due to lack of genetic variation), and their health was hard to discern (due to their minuscule size). Not much research had been done on their physiology either. It was a hopeless crisis if I could not find out the truth.
Could I communicate with the world?
"Hello?" I tried to construct a sound, but heard nothing. I repeated the attempt. "Hi?" Still silence.
Then it dawned on me.
Ants had no ears, and therefore could not hear. They compensated for this by having a keen sense of smell and touch. They communicated by stridulating; a high-pitched rasping sound produced by rubbing their abdomen and legs together.
But that was beyond my reach. My body was paralyzed, and I could not move a muscle.
Useless!
Come on, brain, think! What can you do? Find a solution!
I sighed quietly. Maybe this was indeed the end for me. What a foolish creature, and what an infinitesimal brain. . .
Logic did not always solve problems.
I missed my friends. . .
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