The night is humid, and warm.

I heave myself up onto the wall, looking down at the world. I crack open the can of coke I brought with me, the sharp hiss amongst the quiet street. I stare at it, the drops of water forming on the cool can, slowly, delicate, excruciating. The soft pops and cracks of the bubbles.

I am King of the World.

Hah.

An ant crawls by, moving hither and thither.

A drop of water falls.

I watch, rapt, as the ant drowns.

It struggles, moving its tiny legs, but it can't win, it's running out of time as it tries desperately to reach the edge, to move out into the open world once again, to find its freedom.

Its movement slows, then stops.

I look away, staring into the dim lit street, the sodium street lights giving out its warm orange glow, a haze of heat surrounds everything.

A blur.

A dream.

I dream of kings, of heroes and quests, of tragedy, of life.

A different life.

I reach out, wincing slightly as the coldness of the can sends a shock through my fingers.

And I wake.

I stare at the rapidly darkening scene.

It's all the same.

But something is different.

I look down.

The ant. It's gone.

I smile as I watch it move, step by step, away from the darkening splotch.

It seems to have changed. Something about its movement was not the same, not the same enthusiastic curiosity.

I raise the can in a silent salute.

"To experience"