by JB Corso
Thomas floats away in bloody chunks towards their subterranean nest. Bits of his ear, sections of his tail, and several whiskers are carried away after their workers methodically snip each bloody piece away. Memories of his guttural whining hang within my tortured mind like mangrove tree seeds. The locals warned me about the outback’s jack jumper ants. I should’ve listened. Instead, they’re beginning to close in around my rock sanctuary. My refuge shrinks as they begin jumping closer like an excited ebony mass of finality. Thousands of golden mandibles clicking together near my open-toed sandals. Each tiny pincer advances closer.
JB Corso is a mental health clinician who continues to work with vulnerable populations. Their writing motto is “Developing stories into masterpieces.” They’ve been published several times in The Siren’s Call and are a Horror Writer’s Association (HWA) member.