The ants.

June 27, Vacaville.

They've been dogging me since Texas. The ants.
They trek around my kitchen, a solitary soldier mostly, only rarely a group of them, and I squash them and there's another one, and another one, endlessly they appear, unfathomably, one after the other and here's another, but where are they coming from, an under-keyed invasion, they keep coming, here's another taking a stroll on Peanut's pajamas, and one on the kitchen counter, the solitary searchers, since I left Texas they've been here, coming from the depths of the trailer or from outside I do not know, did I provide a free pass to Texas ants to go west or are these locals quick to the task?
Le mystere reste entier.