Mercilo Daviss, writer by nature and therefore incurably curious, greatly enjoyed peeking into those perpendicular passions in fields obscure to many. It was this predilection that brought an invitation from Mrs. Michaela Agnew, myrmecologist. It was an invitation to spend a quiet afternoon, as Mrs. Agnew put it, “staring at the ground”.
Over cups of green tea they watched an endless formicine movement of matériel one foot from their feet, the conversation drifting amongst various matters.
“How is your writing proceeding?” said Michaela.
“Enjoying it immensely,” said Mercilo, “and delighted to entertain more than a few score of wonderful readers.”
“I think your habit could learn from ants like these,” said Michaela. “With ants, watching one explore the world in front of them is a delight. But watching a crowd operating in concert is a marvel beyond. So who else is there, Mercilo? Others must be writing in a similar vein.”
“Just so,” came the reply. “For one, a gentleman in Brussels by the name of Dieter Rogiers. He creates, each day, in 300 words, some entertaining romp that stirs something within the reader. He writes at 300 Stories”.
“Well there’s Thomas Heasman-Hunt at serialwritist. He does longer shots with a fantastical flavour.”
“That’s two,” said Michaela. “Any more?”
The ants, listening intently to this discussion, passed word to their queen. She mused, but did not worry. The humans were smart, but they could not stop the Plan. Nothing could.