I was riding along on my push bike the other day, enjoying a road clear of traffic and a nice downhill grade, when THWACK!!!! – I was hit in the face with a BEE, who’s stinger, and most likely the rest of his arse, came to rest in my temple. My glasses literally came off my face, and I carried on riding, emitting a sort of warbling, drawn out cry of pain and self-reflection for the empty streets to enjoy.
I came to a stop, let out what sounded like a crow call, and quickly doubled back towards my glasses before an approaching van ran them over.
It was lucky that it happened right in front of an Ambulance Station, but nobody was home. So I rode on with my new squint, the earlier sense of peace replaced by a grimm appreciation of nature’s wrath.
That was Friday, and there’s still a red lump on the side of my face, three days later.
I never caught the bee. Or did I?
*image courtesy of Australian Geographic