An epic battle on a tiny scale
The ant that entered my apartment through the gap between the door and the floor does not recognize the limits of my property. It knows nothing about violation of possession, nor does she respect the deity of the threshold worshiped by the Romans.
Immediately I'm warned by Janus - well actually it didn't happen that way, but the narrative would be less interesting if I just said that I looked at the ground and saw the ant - I confront the invading insect.
- What are you doing here?
- Who invited you in?
- Didn't you learn that violating the threshold without authorization is equivalent to a declaration of war?
The ant is not aware of my inquiries. It is scouting the terrain, probably looking for food or assessing the site for settlement.
I try to catch the ant, but it dodges me as if to say:
- Whoever you think you are, mind your own business.
I have to catch the ant once more, but it speeds up its walk and I can see it turns its jaws toward me before running away:
-Leave me alone, or bear the consequences.
I could step on the ant and end this little conflict once and for all. But that wouldn't be fair. The ant does not really pose a threat, at best an occasional nuisance. Also, by rousing my attention, it freed me of some melancholy thoughts. That's why she doesn't deserve to die. But that doesn't mean it can stay. Behind a scout there is always an army ready to invade enemy territory. Furthermore, Janus recommended that it would be better to preserve the lone invader to abort a large-scale invasion.
I carefully pick up the ant. But before I could throw it out the window I received a painful sting on the big toe of my right hand.
Ungrateful insect, I thought.
Damned giant who aborted my mission, the ant must have thought.
This little confrontation is not over yet. As I write these words the ant is looking for its way back to its nest. Better to close the gap between the entrance door and the floor, because a bellicose insect can return accompanied by its comrades.