Her presence seems to most ghostly. A subtle interruption in the flow of the air, a single breath among millions. You don't have to fly in a plane to see her as an ant, she is that already in comparison to her peers.
She knows this is true, and it doesn't kill her spirit. She busies herself with more important things. She silences herself by raising her voice for matters she finds important.
But every now-and-then she finds herself wondering as to why she is still just an ant amidst great humans. Her voice is so loud, but it is also the quietest silence. On paper she is strong, in speech confident. In her head stuttering and tripping over phrases she would speak, if she did not constantly worry of disapproval.
She fears being forgotten. Being hated.
She wants to be noticed, to be admired. But ants can only leave footprints so far until the tracks cannot be seen.
