Waiting

Imagine if you will that the ants of the world collectively invented a flying machine that enabled them to collect more crumbs, see more estranged colony members, and spend their tithes(which are meant to go to The Queen) on lavish vacations to the Virgin Islands. Then consider that this flying machine used some sort of fuel other than the enzymes of the ants belly. Then realize that ants would have to construct buildings much like a human airport. This is where we find our story.  Calvin had been a renegade of colony 192830xr837b for some time now. However, the news that his Queen otherwise anointed Edna had fallen ill with belly cancer and was soon to divvy up  control and the prime real estate of colony 192830xr837b.Death, is the one thing to disrupt the ant's biologically pre-disposition life. So Calvin sat at the flying machine's hub much like a human airport waiting for his machine to take off. However the sky was black and every other ant it seemed was at this building much like a human airport. Calvin sat waiting for what seemed an eternity folded in on it. Really it was just an hour and forty minutes. But any time spent in such close quarters with other ants without a job to do forces time to stretch out to an annoying distance. Sooner rather than later to keep the action going, a bomb exploded. Pieces of ants when every which way, yet our man-ant was completely unharmed. The explosion-pandemonium orbited him. He observed the whole event from the center, 4.2 seconds slower than reality. Have you ever inserted an ant with a microscope, like that just bigger. Then as the honeycomb collapsed onto him, he realized why the woman-ant next to him face had been so alarmed a minute ago. He was the center, he was the bomb. I suppose he should have been x-rayed and patted down at the Dept of Ant land Security checkpoint. He'd eaten a bomb at a Ant-Fundamentalist cafe that morning. This all took place on a Sunday in November.