Troubled little ant, Little Queen Ant, she searched for an ant nest. She thought she found a perfect nesting place, but she was oh, so wrong. She trudged to the sphere-shaped bowl, hoping to find a large pile of food, except, it. WASN’T. She fell into a vat of primordial soup, sinking deeper and deeper into the endless thick, red-hot liquid. Burning, dying, slowly.
When she rose, she was in the white light. She saw a black flower, red mist flowing from its anthers. It eroded her sense of smell, she went up to it, and asked, “Have I died?”