We have ants. All kinds of ants. Small reddish brown ones. Big fat black ones. On the kitchen table. On the formica counter tops. Once I dripped some honey and when I returned there were more than ten surrounding it, completely still, sucking in the sweetness. I killed them all.

At first I didn't mind them too much. I used to just flick them across the kitchen. They would always end up back on the counter. Then I got annoyed. Really upset. I started killing all of them. I bought poison. Their numbers dwindled, but just for a few days. They came back.

One day I wanted some brown sugar for hot cereal. I took the new box from the shelf. I should have known. The tell tale little reddish browns were crawling on the unbroken seal. I figured the sugar would be okay, but no, they were inside, the little fuckers, and they matched the sugar exactly. So, I tried to kill some. I opened the pack and dumped all the sugar in a tupperware container. I studied the sugar for movement. It was then that I decided it was time to really declare war. It was at that moment that I decided I would eat them. I would eat the ants, and that would show them.

And so, I put a spoonful of the wriggling brown sugar on my hot cereal and mixed it up, and chewed very carefully, thoughtfully, so that I would definately kill each and every ant I ate.

Justice was sweet.