Single File, March.1x1
There was a family of ants.
Marching single file to the beat of the creamy rock.
They spoke in silence.
Silent nods, gestures, silent expressions.
But mainly silence.
And when the vanilla stone subsided,
They slipped into silent sleep.
And in their slumber, there was no silence.
They would harmonize to the gentle hymns and hums of the serenal crickets.
And when the ethereal musicians retired for the night, they awakened silently with no recollection of the song of the previous night.
They dressed in silent uniforms, and tied their silent shoes.
They ate their silent food, and every day continued their silent routine.
Until one day, one of the ants was tired of silence, and roared.
The other ants cast him out.
And when he lost them, there was no more silence.
But neither was there sound.
Just a terrifying pit.
And the ant went mad.
He had no one to harmonize with at night and awakened strangely from the lack of this.
And the ant realized that it was better living silently with the other ants, but it was too late.
They had all passed away silently together.
Then he had no one to share his silence with.
And the ant slipped into eternal silence alone.
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