  Today I wrote a math contest where one of the questions concerned a cube with an ant standing at one of the corners and how many times he could walk around the side lengths and such.
Needless to say I thought of the heroic Ant of Distant Anthill, who had a simple upbringing, but saw A Grain of Sand on a piece of white rubber and was conducted into legendary immortality. I was so distracted I couldn’t concentrate and I think I might have failed the math contest. On the positive side of things, there is now a new chapter in Ant’s life, or rather his afterlife.
~*A Rather Cubic Ant’s Heaven*~ Ant was groggy and in pain. This was perfectly understandable since he’d just been squashed to a pulp and died moments before, but that’s not what was bothering him. What was bothering him was that he could feel anything at all. After all, he was for all accounts and purposes dead. He should not be feeling anything. And if he was so lucky as to still go on feeling, he would have wished for a better feeling than ‘groggy and in pain’.
Slowly his simple but heroic Ant equivalent of eyes started to lose their fog and allow Ant to see around him. There was not much there. Just more fog really. He wasn’t even quite sure his eyes had un-fogged themselves properly, that was how much fog there was. Then he saw a figure looming ever closer through this massive swirl of impenetrable fog. How he could have seen through this impenetrable fog is beyond understanding, but we must remember that Ant was now a hero, and heroes are known to have all sorts of impossible special abilities.
Maybe the hormones and genes and such in Ant’s poor little body had been so thoroughly fed up and bored that they had decided to turn Ant into a superhero, just for the fun of it. I wouldn’t know. To continue, a figure was looming closer and closer with each passing second to where Ant was. This was no ordinary ghost-like or god-like figure that you would expect a visit from when you were for all accounts and purposes dead.
This was an actual mathematical figure. A cube to be exact. It had all sorts of complicated-looking numbers and letters that Ant assumed to be of great mathematical importance scrawled all over its transparent surface. More surprisingly, A Grain of Sand was bouncing along inside this cube looking for all intents and purposes excruciatingly happy. Ant felt rather betrayed by this. After all, he had just sacrificed his life to avenge the death and destruction of all A Grain of Sand had supposedly held dear. He would have expected at least a small show of grief. Ant was rudely torn out of this train of thought by a voice that said, “Simple but heroic Ant of Distant Anthill, we are glad to have you with us this day.” Again, Ant felt slightly hurt.
So many people seemed to be glad that he was dead. It was rather depressing. He felt he should reflect back on his life to see what exactly he had done to make everyone so glad he was dead, but was rudely interrupted by the voice again. “We have intercepted you in your journey to heaven, to ask you to take place in a vital experiment that will immortalize you even further. You are a hero in the ant world, but now you have the chance to be a hero in the human world as well!
Reflect on that if you will!” Ant obediently reflected. He was not impressed. What passed for humans had just destroyed his entire life in a shockingly off-hand stroke of brutality. He did not understand why he should be as impressed as the voice implied he should be, at becoming one of their heroes. He then wondered what he would have to do. The voice appeared to be able to read his mind. “All you have to do,” it stated, “Is walk round that cube, starting at point A.
Tell us how many edges you can walk on before you must retrace your steps. Ant thought that was amazingly simple. He sidled up to point A, which was conveniently labelled with a large red flashing neon arrow that Ant was amazed he had not noticed before. He then proceeded to totter around the edges of the cube taking care not to either fall off or retrace his steps. It was rather difficult to concentrate, because beneath him, inside the cube, A Grain of Sand was still hopping about enthusiastically. It was rather distracting. After a long and arduous journey, Ant arrived at point C. The voice then said, “You seem to have bypassed point B.
We like your unorthodox approach! You have provided us with an answer to a very pressing question, and we are very grateful. Generations of human children will learn about your journey in their math classes. You will not be forgotten. As an extra token of our appreciation, we, the math gods, would like to give you A Grain of Sand. May you be happy forever.” With these final words, a hole appeared in the cube, through which A Grain of Sand was forcibly thrust out.
Notwithstanding the fact that it is difficult, if not impossible, to discern the more subtle emotions of sand grains, it would seem that A Grain of Sand was being dragged out of the cube kicking and screaming with a decided disinclination to leave. Ant was still reeling over the fact that he had just been called unorthodox. He had still not decided whether this was praise or insult, when a rather sullen Grain of Sand sunk down in a depressed manner beside him.
Ant beamed at A Grain of Sand in a vain attempt to cheer him up. Then the math gods plonked both of them back where they had picked them up. The desolate Distant Anthill. The math gods were surprisingly lacking in logic when they made this move. For instance, they had not considered this fact: Ant was dead when he was at Distant Anthill. This lack of consideration was shocking, for only a second after he had decided he liked the math gods after all, Ant fell down dead. (fini) in other news... i just realized how much chocolate i eat. its shocking. one year i gave up chocolate for lent, and i went insane.
seriously, i had withdrawal symptoms. although i wrote the math contest, i came home right afterwards. it would appear the art in life is compromise. 
