At the Anthills of Madness
By H.P. Lovecrabbe (with Joel Arnold)
Every day, small mounds of sand appear on my driveway.
The ants clutch grains in their ochre mandibles, depositing one atop the other in an eldritch precision.
I sweep the hills away, only to see them return the next day.
I crush the ants with gore-caked sneakers, poison them, set them aflame with a magnifying glass.
But always, the hills return, bigger than before.
Alas, I can no longer take it. I lay on my stomach. Talk.
We reach an agreement, the ants and I; a human sacrifice of a former virgin.
I invite a neighbor over for tea.
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If you'd like to read the other collaboration I did with my esteemed, yet agoraphobic, neighbor, you can check out The Reeking - a short story for your ebook - at the following venues:
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