“Why aren’t you hopping?” chirped the grasshopper. “The summer is upon us, and the days are meant for dancing.”
“I’m studying for the GRE,” said the ant. “And I strongly suggest you do the same.”
“Why would I waste this sunshine toiling?” scoffed the grasshopper. “I was thinking, we should try Four Loko before it gets banned.” And then he shouted “YOLO!,” because it was during that brief period of time when people actually did that.
The ant smiled smugly at the grasshopper. “It may be summer now,” she cautioned. “But winter will soon be upon us. Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.” And, with that, she marched into a Starbucks to practice analogies.
The ant went on to graduate school, where she diligently gathered useful skills like coding and statistics. The grasshopper, meanwhile, got work as a barback and moved into a tiny nest in Bed-Stuy. By winter, he’d lost touch with the ant entirely, although for a few years he would get spam e-mails saying she’d invited him to join LinkedIn.
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة January 22, 2024 من The New Yorker.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك ? تسجيل الدخول
هذه القصة مأخوذة من طبعة January 22, 2024 من The New Yorker.
ابدأ النسخة التجريبية المجانية من Magzter GOLD لمدة 7 أيام للوصول إلى آلاف القصص المتميزة المنسقة وأكثر من 9,000 مجلة وصحيفة.
بالفعل مشترك? تسجيل الدخول
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Kyungha-ya. That was the entirety of Inseon’s message: my name.
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Jadé Fadojutimi, a British painter, sees the world through a prism.
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On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.
