Margie had thought her college art class would be easy. She loved to draw and paint. She didn’t realize one assignment would be so stupid — to carve something unexpected out of wood.
Margie’s roommate, Jane, watched as Margie paced, unable to come up with an idea that would impress the professor.
“Damn, girl,” Jane replied. “After all this headache, carving it should be the easy part, right?”
Margie plopped down on her bed. Jane handed her a sketchbook. “Flip through that. I’ve drawn lots of things. Something might catch your attention.”
Margie rolled her eyes. Jane shook her head and left.
“Maybe,” said Margie as she flipped dismissively through the pages. Then she stopped. Amid the black and white sketches was a bright, pumpkin-colored hornet. It looked so real. Clearly Jane had talent. Margie lit a match to better see the details.
“Yes!” Margie said. “That hornet is the challenge I want.”
The hornet began to stir on the page. Margie shook out the match and stared, shocked. “This can’t be happening!” But it was. The hornet struggled, wriggling, filling out into three dimensions.
With a flick of its wings, the hornet rose from the paper and hummed around the room. Margie watched, spellbound. Then the hornet dove down and stung Margie on the throat. The venom was so powerful, it knocked Margie back onto the bed, paralyzed. The hornet then pawed back pages in the sketchbook to release a fire ant that had, likewise, fleshed out.
“I’m hungry, buddy,” the hornet told the fire ant, who began burrowing into Margie’s shoulder. The hornet rubbed its greedy legs together. “Tear through that tough skin. Once you reach the soft meat, carving it should be the easy part, right? Yum!”
Margie couldn’t scream but heard Jane laughing in the hallway.