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Karen Hartsfield's Autobiography (submitted 5/17/06)
It was the last day of a relaxing vacation on Sanibel Island.
Now it was time to leave.
The car was packed. We're ready to go.
My husband opened the passenger door for me.
That's when the horror began.
We stood there, frozen with disbelief. Our mouths dropped open. For a second there, I thought we were in a movie.
The car's black paint was alive and moving. As we looked closer, we could see what was happening.
Good God! Thousands of tiny black ants had infiltrated the interior of the black Mazda. They flowed out of the open door jamb in a single wave of motion.
We tried to brush them out to no avail. We took off our shoes and started whacking them.
It took nearly thirty minutes to get most of them out of the car. Finally, we got in the car and began our drive back to Philly.
After a few minutes, we settled down and relaxed.
Then my husband opened the sunroof. Two seconds later, he said, "Don't look up."
Of course, I looked up. A sea of ants had flowed into the car from the sunroof. There were thousands of ants directly above our heads as we drove north on I-95 at 70 mph.
"Pull over!" I screamed. We left the highway and headed for a swampy area, clearly populated by about fifty giant dragonflies.
"Not here!" I screamed. We found a safe place to stop, took off our shoes and dealt with the ants again.
We fought the ants all day long. We finally stopped at a motel for the evening.
Overnight, my husband set off an ant bomb in the interior of the car. The bomb worked.
The invasion of the ants was finally over, an exciting conclusion to a relaxing vacation.