For a brief moment, I felt that the world had been unified into one.

So vast and grand—as if it were about to move a precious bean-green caterpillar into a burrow—when the worker ant, always following the guidance of pheromones and never lifting its head, suddenly raised its head.
In its compound eyes, it saw countless missed long-river sunsets, round as if they were complete.
Start over—the missed sunset at dusk; tomorrow will come again.