The Hive

Yet another of Alejandro Mora’s (4A) flights of creative fantasy; this time on the wings of an ill-fated bee, who discovers that all that glitters is not necessarily gold.

I was walking down an empty dusty road. I don’t know why I was doing so; I had no place to go.

The winding path lead to a coniferous forest. It was lush and green, but there seemed to be no animals there. After a while of exploring and wandering about, I heard a faint buzz behind me. I rapidly turned around, excited to have found an animal in this seemingly empty road. I saw what it was: a bumblebee.

As soon as the little bee saw I noticed it, it flew away in the opposite direction. I followed it, evading the countless trees along the way. After a period of incessant running, an odd feeling came over me. I suddenly felt, well, lighter. And shorter. And fatter. I looked down. Instead of having two running legs, I had six of them, none of them moving. Yet, I was. I then looked up. Two wings as thin as rice paper stuck out from my body. It became all very obvious: I had turned into a bee.

After a rather long and dramatic nervous breakdown, I finally decided to follow my fellow bee. We reached the beehive. I have to admit; it was nothing out of the ordinary on the outside. The inside, however, was a different story. When I first flew in, a wave of honey-scented air pierced into my lungs and warmed me up like a summer’s day. Then, I noticed the walls that sparkled with the color of gold, shining like the morning sun. In the intricate architectural wonders that were the honeycomb rested luminous gems of all colors and shapes: pollen. It was funny in a way. People have searched for the city of El Dorado since the dawn of time, when it has been inside a hive all along.

Unfortunately, it was all too good to be true. I realized only a few bees were up and moving. The rest of them were lying in the honeycombs or even on the floor, gasping for air and coughing vigorously. They crawled towards me, begging for help. I tried to aid them by bringing them honey and water, but whatever malady they had was too strong. I then started feeling weak and dizzy. I had to escape. I ran towards the exit. I left and flew between the trees. In a matter of minutes, I was just the decaying carcass of a sick bee falling down on an empty dusty road.