Butchers and Trees

Children and Rats

I'm an improbable coalescence of stardust enjoying one fleeting, glorious dance through the cosmos before poof.

I am a victim of the sands of time that are ever passing through my fingers. 

I will forever fall through the hourglass. My family will try hard as our predators pass those like us through their guts. 

Nowhere can we escape the poison we have been fed and as we die slowly our dust will return to the sands of time. Ever changing. Forever moving. 

As we fight for scraps, those above us wither away. Just as trapped here as we are. 
Fighting amongst ourselves for what little we have and need to survive. 

We watch them at night, we steal scraps from them and get poisoned if we venture too far. I almost feel bad for them. 

We feast today, one of them died and was left here near us. In the corner. 
Our feast will support us, but for how long? 

This corpse gave us a chance at survival, for now, we will live. We will survive. Those above us may not make it much longer. 

A truce was made between us and them. We bring them scraps we find elsewhere and they provide comfort and company. 

Most of us don't trust them, but our understanding of survival keeps us weary of them. We don't know what their intentions are. 

There are eight of them now. It's been days and two more have dropped in the corner. They never leave this space above us. 

I began to trust the one that gives us bread. He seems so kind to our kind. We have yet to have been harmed by them so far.

There was a collapse today, and many of our kind perished in the fall. Bricks will forever win against us. 

Seven are left today, we have no idea where this one went. I can smell them on the others, but truly I will never know. 

The blood makes our frenzy lively. Living in fear of the larger among us. I don't waste time moving aside for the ones hungrier than I. 

I watched as the five turned against the one. The one didn't fight, she seemed too weak to even try. They sobbed and looked so faceless. 

I watched them as the days passed, my children grew so that they may continue my cycle. One of them was eaten. Two of them were stolen.

One of us stays with them now, above us. I think of her often. She never had any children. Another passed.

They are all so thin. I think they will pass soon. How many days will they be given? Will they be afraid?

The colony is moving, I am old. I will not survive. I choose to stay with the ones above us. I found comfort in their calmness.