“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.
Esta historia es de la edición January 22, 2024 de The New Yorker.
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Esta historia es de la edición January 22, 2024 de The New Yorker.
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