A bee is struggling to get out of the café –throwing its strong little body against the window.
If it could, it would scream.
It doesn’t mind its current powerlessness, it just keeps pushing and slamming itself against that window. It. doesn’t. stop. No pity for itself.
Stupid Bee, I think, the door is to your left.
Its unawareness makes me feel superior. But, not for long. As it heads for my sweet skin, determined, I let out a yelp.
It flies out the door.