Yesterday, on my walk home from the TTC station, I saw a pear laying on the sidewalk. It had fallen from the tree overhanging the sidewalk with its dangling green bounty. From a distance the pear appeared strangely fuzzy, as if it had fur being ruffled by the breeze or was vibrating and out of focus. As I drew closer I could see it was probably covered in ants and, being fascinated by ants, I leaned forward to get a better look. It wasn’t covered in ants. It was covered in several dozen writhing yellow wasps. They were tearing the glistening fruit to shreds with their mandibles which emitted a sort of wet hum, like a tiny river or sizzling bacon. Eerily, there was no buzzing. Just the sound of clicking and slicing.
Things you see as you walk down the street: fruit.