Writing Forums

Writing Forums is a privately-owned, community managed writing environment. We provide an unlimited opportunity for writers and poets of all abilities, to share their work and communicate with other writers and creative artists. We offer an experience that is safe, welcoming and friendly, regardless of your level of participation, knowledge or skill. There are several opportunities for writers to exchange tips, engage in discussions about techniques, and grow in your craft. You can also participate in forum competitions that are exciting and helpful in building your skill level. There's so much more for you to explore!

The Sting of a Bee

This entry is part of a series of entries "The Totem Chronicles"
The Sting of a Bee


“Ouch! Why would you do that my dear little bubble bee. You must know that your sting is but only an irritant to me. But for you, death will swiftly come, under this unforgiving hot burning sun,” said the great and mighty fiddler.

The little bumble bee could now barely see, half of her body was stuck in the fiddler’s knee. She trembled and shook and gave the world one last look. With her last bit of strength she looked the fiddler in the eye and said,

“What better way to die than on the great fiddler’s knee. Fiddle de day fiddle de de fiddle de day de de. To my great relief, I saw you walking along the garden path. You, who are a great friend to the birds and the bees, the oceans, animals, and the trees, would understand my desire to alert you of our plight knowing that it would even mean my death. You see I, and many of my kind have lost our way; we could no longer find our hives where we live, work, and play. Something or someone has poisoned our senses. We need your help to regain our equilibrium. I’ll die happy knowing that my sting will always remind you of our distress. I die knowing that the great fiddler would find a way to bring us back home.” the little bee’s eyes closed and she died a stingers death.

I gently took her stinger out of my knee, leaving her intact, and buried her amongst the flowers. I swore to her that I will help her kind find their way back home.

Anger welled up within me as I suspected that God’s manthings had something to do with this. Man and the cockroach were both the same--- resilient, destructive and good for nothing....

Next entry in series The Wings of a Fly and the Reply
Previous entry in series Buzz Kill

Comments

Top