Captain Montgomery Ffitch (retired) finished pouring pine needles into the bee smoker and switched off the television. He’d been disheartened to hear the lockdown was due to end. Bojo and his government cronies were itching to open the country up… Continue Reading
Dillon grimaced as he gazed around his mini-fridge for the fifth time tonight; three Pop Cola cans, an old box of beef Lo Mein from Zhang’s corner stand, and a carton of Quik Fruit. Absentmindedly, he picked at the hives… Continue Reading
It’s summer again. Bikini season. I try to lose weight, really. I exercise, drink water, cut calories. I try to emulate slender people, slender species — to learn, and become something greater, well, thinner, but greater than myself in the… Continue Reading
A fly buzzed around my head as I strode down the corridor leading from the chapter house to the quad. The sun shone though the Gothic windows patterning the concrete floor. My oxblood Doc Martens chose only the sunlit squares.… Continue Reading
Francis was penning a letter to his monastery brothers back home when his bees malfunctioned. He stood from a bolted-down table and chair in a corner of the dirigible as tiny black bots emerged from their hives to buzz around… Continue Reading
Gil hit the reset button and crossed his fingers. The bumblebee gyrated to the near-frantic music, arcing graceful curves and patterns inside the glass enclosure. Abruptly, the bee braked to a hover, and plummeted to the enclosure floor. After a… Continue Reading