They killed her. She didn't have a chance. She was in her little cage and they climbed in and killed her. Stung her, bit her, chewed at her. They were curled up in the sting position. One was very curled up. She must have suceeded to get her stinger in.
We got her out of her cage but they were still on her. I shouted at them to leave her alone. "Why are you doing this!!!??" Leave her alone!
I grabbed at the Girls and peeled and flicked them off. They flew off without a second look back. She just lay there and then climbed on my glove. I could see a stinger in her. Right below her head. The whitish poison bag sitting there, pumping. How many did she get? She crawled around my glove. I ordered him to remove my other glove. I want to try and remove the stinger. But I couldn't get it right-my fingers, my fingernails. All big and clumsy.
They are killing her.
He said, " we just put her in and take the risk". Who takes the risk? Us? He lowered her in. You could see her trying to get into the darkness but they came after her. A moving wave of black and gold folding on top of her.
They were not welcoming her.
Why the feeling of looking into a mirror?
Who are they to decide who can live and who can die? What right do they have to decide? Based on what? How they smell? Who have they mated with? Where they have been? Whom have they been spending time with? How they sound? Their size and shape or even colour?
Is this a microcosm of this village? Of this commune? This state? Country? World? of Me?
Is this what it is really like in reality but we just make everything seem all full of honey and flowers and forget the sting?
They killed her. She was pregnant. Pregnant with possibilities of the next spring. Only if she got through this coming winter.
She didn't even get a chance.
Maybe it is better to be a worker than a Queen.