Looking Down from My Throne

A robe over my shoulders and a gold ring on my hand. I sat on my throne, looking down at those beneath me. I do not know their names, where they are from, or who they believe themselves to be. I don’t care. To me they are all the same. I wouldn’t be able to recognize one from another. They will never be able to compete with my greatness nor achieve the level of power I was born with, no matter how hard they try. They are ants, working day in and day out to serve their lord. But who really is their lord? They work in my domain but do they work for me or against me?
Those who trespass into my territory, do they seek me harm or is it merely by mistake? I doubt I am loved by them, for hundreds of their family members and friends have been slain by my hand. Do I continue to squelch the subtle invasion or do I leave them alone, as I wait and watch? Do I continue with my brutal tactics? Do I destroy them and their families or do I capture them to work in my farms, prisoners to my will?
I stand to my feet after flushing and I hang my bathrobe on the hook. “Yeah Honey, I think it’s time we call the exterminator. This gel poison isn’t really working.”




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