He was old and bored. The long nights that used to fill his life belong to another age. Days slowly went by while he felt empty and passed over. His memories vague, his expectations nil.
His old likes and willingness to share all but forgotten. Nobody wanted him, nobody called. His friends, the stars, with cold hearts. The long nights, the short nights, a day, another day. Everything the same. Everything tasteless.
Only rarely did he bother to seek, but without hope.
An ant walks quickly through a long and winding path. She carries a small leaf between her pincers. She knows where she goes. Her instinct is more powerful than her consciousness. She works and keeps on working. She runs; she walks. She will not rest until she breathes her last.
He looks upon her from above.
His previous irony gone.
His pride deflated.
He just observes.
She does not stop. She pursues her task without thought.
In an explosion of energy she lifts another leaf and moves on. She departs from the beaten track and moves away. Her stubborn insistence; her admirable dedication. How strange but she is lost.
His solitude has been so complete that he cannot recognize the feelings that invade him. He lets himself be guided by his instinct. He focuses on the tiny ant and shares his own peculiar brand of magnetism.
She stops as if listening. She turns back until she reaches the track leading to her nest.
He smiles. He remembers. He thinks of the many times that men had followed him The times he had guided them. The time when he was master.
And finally he again accepts who he is, his unchanging self. His strength - even if it is no longer admired.
"I am the North - the Magnetic North."
He falls silent, as before - but now shares himself with other creatures. "To be useful again" he says as he looks around.