The Beast

Warm in the basement,
she observed to her husband,
in contrast to the prevailing chill
upstairs on that overcast, windy
winter day. There was a
tiny ant, she said, crawling
on their basement tile floor.
Still there!
He'd noticed it a month ago
hadn't the heart to
dispatch it,
poor little bugger.
And it was still alive? he queried.
No, she replied, it was not.
He regarded his frail elderly wife:
Dead when you saw it?
he amended his query.
No, she responded,
it was not.