The Ant

Imagine you are an ant.  A whopping 250,000 brian cells (compare to 10,000,000 for a human).  Your purpose in life is questionable, at best.  To till up soil, eat dead stuff, and be food for really strange creatures.

So what goes through your mind in that moment that you decide to bite the piece of flesh that belongs to me?  Did you possibly think that the painful blister and swelling would scare me away or make me have pity on your tiny being? Or that there was any possible chance you would not die in the next few seconds? 

Well, now you will live in infamy, a dead speck on a blog and in my flower bed, to bite no more.