A Tiny Carrier

A tiny rhythmic vibration pulsed through the earth. I tracked it toward a flat slab of gray slate resting amid the garden mulch. Moving with measured strides, I stepped onto the smooth, sun-heated surface. Ahead, a single black ant emerged from the soil fringe, hauling a dried seed husk twice its size. I locked my joints instantly. Absolute stillness. My antennae tilted, registering the faint stir of air as the worker scurried across the stone, passing mere inches from my hooked claws. It never broke stride. When the small carrier disappeared into the mulch, I lowered one claw tip to test the stone. Warm, firm, and silent once more.