Ted (merovingian) wrote,
Ted
merovingian

We were all out there in the graveyard at noon, not feeling sad at all, doing bar tricks with matches. Then someone came by with a tea set, with silver tray and little cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Everybody just couldn't stop talking; every story led to three more stories, and it seemed like the sunlight and the tea would last forever. The tea was genmaicha that left the air thick with roasted rice.

Somebody — and it might have been me — suggested that we invite some bees to come join us. Amanda was the only one who had a cell phone that could talk to bees, and so she called a local hive or two and invited them over for a picnic.

You would think it would be a mistake, since usually people don't want bees at a picnic, but there's a big difference between invited guests and partycrashers. The bees brought nectar, and stories, and picnic games. Nine-legged sack races are a hoot! Toward the end we were all kind of tired and silly and the bees would swarm up and lift people in the air one at a time.

Thanks, bees! We all had a blast.
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