It took me three tries.
On the third attempt, the beetle, supported by others and a crack in the pavement, successfully struck the match against the side of the box as the other bugs adjusted its position. A small flame flared at the end.
Um. Wow.
What are you using this match for? Gonna set fire to the rain the Merchants? Or maybe we aren’t going back to the second group after all.
Other bugs leveraged matches out of the box the woman had dropped, gripping the matches in their mandibles, sometimes two or three bugs to one match. Like a relay, they touched one match to another, passing on the flame from the beetle’s match to each of the others.
How fitting that I’d read about this on the starting day of the Olympics.
It wasn’t long before there were more than thirty beetles each with a lit match in its mandibles. Some died from the heat their own matches generated, but most were able to stand it.
Damn, nice.
I could imagine the visual of it; kind of like a small sea of tiny flames like lighters at a concert. Or maybe it was closer to a lynch mob, a crowd holding torches, radiating with an imminent threat of violence.
Hm, it does sound like we’re back to the Merchant fight – I don’t remember anyone dropping a box of matches when I read the first part four days ago, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Or it might’ve happened offscreen while we were flashbacking.