Name: Anonymous 2009-10-03 0:19
wrote this for a vignette assignment. can you correct errors?
Left, right, left, right. They march as one, never straying from their path; one mind among a colony of thousands. He stares at them, admires their uniformity. One has fallen by the sting of an insect that is run off by the rest; the wound is fatal.He is surrounded by comrades, and carried into the hill. The boy's father stands beside him, watching with a sigh of wisdom as the boy chuckles with curiosity.
"Why do the ants carry the dead one into the ant hill?" asks the boy.
"They're going to hold a funeral for him, and bury him with his friends and family," the father answers.
"Ants do that? I thought only people cared about that stuff."
"You'd be surprised," he says.
His mother calls from the kitchen that he will be late for school. His father pats the boy on his head and smiles at his innocence. The boy leaves, bagel in hand, still thinking about the ant's funeral. He crosses the street as the glowing white man waves approval. A swerving car knocks the life out of the boy and drags him for half a block, his fragile frame mangled into deformity. The driver is slightly annoyed at the road bump and accelerates until it removes itself from the car's crimson undercarriage. What used to be the boy stares back at the ants, who work as one to devour the bagel.
Left, right, left, right. They march as one, never straying from their path; one mind among a colony of thousands. He stares at them, admires their uniformity. One has fallen by the sting of an insect that is run off by the rest; the wound is fatal.He is surrounded by comrades, and carried into the hill. The boy's father stands beside him, watching with a sigh of wisdom as the boy chuckles with curiosity.
"Why do the ants carry the dead one into the ant hill?" asks the boy.
"They're going to hold a funeral for him, and bury him with his friends and family," the father answers.
"Ants do that? I thought only people cared about that stuff."
"You'd be surprised," he says.
His mother calls from the kitchen that he will be late for school. His father pats the boy on his head and smiles at his innocence. The boy leaves, bagel in hand, still thinking about the ant's funeral. He crosses the street as the glowing white man waves approval. A swerving car knocks the life out of the boy and drags him for half a block, his fragile frame mangled into deformity. The driver is slightly annoyed at the road bump and accelerates until it removes itself from the car's crimson undercarriage. What used to be the boy stares back at the ants, who work as one to devour the bagel.