There was once a piece of mica named Senizal for some odd reason. It was extremely lazy and did nothing but sit around all day. It had lazed about for so long that not only did it become half buried in the ground, but it also had an ant colony take up residence beneath it. It wasn’t a pure piece of mica; it was basically a normal rock with a little bit of mica mixed in. Due to this, it looked somewhat crystalline with some strange edges poking out and a silver sheen covering it, giving it an air of mystery.
One day, a man was walking through the woods and stopped at a nearby tree. This was a business trip and business was done at the tree’s expense. Though, he did foot part of the bill so one couldn’t criticize him. As he was wiping the top of his shoe on a pile of leaves, a distinct shine caught his eye. Like any normal human, he was a complete klepto and went to inspect the source of this shine. And he found it, the piece of mica.
The assumption that it was silver or some other valuable metal crossed his mind due to its silver-ish color. With such a thought in mind, he looked at the sun reflecting off it with a look full of lust. Such a large piece of Silver, even if a bit impure, would surely be worth quite a bit. The man’s mind rolled downhill, out of control like an Indiana Jones’ style trap. Such a misguided soul believed this was enough for the rest of his life. In such a situation, he decided to burn bridges to solidify his determination and pulled out a cellphone.
Work, family, and friends. In that order, he called. There was no turning back now. He picked up the mica and immediately dropped it as a surge of ants seethed out of the bowels of the earth. Even though he dropped it as fast as he could, some of the ants managed to get onto his arm. He brushed his arm off desperately then saw some of the ants crawling on his leg. Looking into the groove that the mica had set upon the ground, there were hundreds of ants moving in sync as though they were dancing to music only they could hear.
Taking advantage of the ant colony’s relative chaos, he scooped up the mica and ran off. Meanwhile, the ants on the mica attempted to assault his body in revenge and to find a way back to their colony. The man reasonably brushed them off whenever he saw them but was unable to get them all. However, he got rid of enough of them that it didn’t bother him anymore.
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Leaving the woods, he hopped in his car and looked up the nearest pawn shop. During the drive there, he swatted a few ants that managed to hitchhike with him. The mica was placed in the passenger seat as if it were a person, with a few pairs of coats and dirty clothes wrapped around it. This was the key to his new life, and he wasn’t going to let it fall down the wrong keyhole.
Inside of the pawn shop, the mica was placed into a bin where the owner did a series of tests to figure out the composition of it. It was found to be mostly worthless, with only triple digits at maximum. That was great, but it was nowhere close to his expectations. It’s like finding a million dollar bill only to find out it’s worthless but well done enough that they’ll give you some cash to buy it. And the damage from his calls have been done. Triple digits were not enough to cut it.
Meanwhile, the piece of mica lazily sat in the bin. The occasional ant could be seen crawling across its ridges in confusion. Things like the troubles faced by the man, the greed of the owner wanting to buy and then resell him, and the ants on it did not even phase it. How envious it was to be separated from worldly things, yet considered a part of the earth.
Eventually, the man left the pawn shop with the mica in a daze. Then, an idea sprung forth and he left for another pawn shop. The thought that the owner was simply trying to rip him off took over his brain. It had to be true. It must be worth something so the price got undercut since he didn’t know much about it. He didn’t even know what mica meant and assumed it was a fake name meant to trick people.
Three hours later, he was standing in the place where he found the mica. At this time, the ant colony had seemingly disappeared, with only a few odd stragglers seen. They had worked fast and managed to fix the crisis wrought by him moving the mica. The man was not so lucky and got the same story everywhere he went. It wasn’t worth much. Instead of selling it, he decided to put it back where he got it.
And so it ends. The mica went on a three-hour journey, only to return back to the beginning. Its tenants were lost, wandering for a new home. The man started calling people, starting with friends and work… then family with great reluctance. While he was doing so, he felt a strange sensation and swatted off one final ant that had slipped up his sleeve. This story was utterly pointless.