In the second grade I was friends with this girl named Emily, and she was very kind. I didn’t like mean people very much, and I still don’t.

Emily was a funny girl. She walked around on her tiptoes almost all the time, her eyes searching the ground as she walked, cautiously, nervously. Always keeping a strict vigil on the path in front of her. She was a dancer, and that is why I assumed she always walked around on her toes.

But one day she told me she walked in this manner because she didn’t want to step on the ants.

They are just bugs I told her. There are millions of them out there.

And then she told me about this dream she had once, where she was chased by huge ants, and in the end her and her family were crushed underneath the feet or the giant ants.

I was ultimately disturbed by this revelation, but it explained her curious walking habits.

I thought about this story, and my friend Emily today when I killed a little ant that was crawling across my kitchen counter. After I did it, I wondered to myself, does Emily still tiptoe around? Does she still avoid stepping on ants because of that dream… is she still a dancer?

Emily moved away a long time ago, and we lost touch. Second grade best friends don’t hold up so well when one of them moves to Oregon.

But if I knew Emily at all, she still walks around on tiptoes. She was always graceful enough to do that. And I bet you she still dances.

I on the other hand, continue to be a ruthless ant killer. And when it comes to dancing… well that is enough said.

Something’s never change.