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Earthworm Earthworm

Because, in the end, that’s what it comes down to. I am only a worm. I am pretty small. There are bigger fish. More important fish.

Fish, for example. Or mice or cats or wolves or deer or owls. You can’t really complain when one flies down, picks you up and gobbles you. They need to live. And if it means them eating me, so be it.

I can forgive them just like I can forgive this human and his plough. He needs the soil as much as me, and if I’m in his way, go ahead, cut me. It’s not like he did it on purpose in some kind of anti-worm frenzy.

And, anyway, I’m not dead or anything. Merely separated. I’ll grow back. It’s more of an inconvenience than anything else. Sure, it smarts, but I can handle it.

Unlike the ants when he went through their hill. And what for? There’ll be a new queen. It was either that or a spider. Something will get them in the end. Something always does.

Like that sparrow over there, for instance. I can show him where my other half is before he rushes away with only me. Might as well save him a bit of work.

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