The Boring Bees

for the TiF contest, Eye See You

The Boring Bees

I was on the spot on my couch. It’s where I eat. It’s where I watch tv. It’s where I do those other things . . . with my laptop.

The window was open. It was May and the wind was warm. It comes off the lake, smelling brown and grassy, the reeds and the ducks. I had been noticing them around, the boring bees.

Haha, boring bees. How boring!

There were two of them, these boring bees at the window. They bumped around, flying, bumping into each other, buzzing louder than you expect, bumping into the window screen.

They were there at my window screen for a long time. Their wings are so fast you can’t see them. Their little round heads are fuzzy and black. Their hunched little bodies are yellow and black. Their eyes glassy and black.

They were there for so long, flying just outside my window screen. They were there when I ate. They were there when I watched tv. I looked up from my screen when I was doing those other things . . . with my laptop. They were there.

I pulled down the shade. It’s beige, the color of parchment. On the sunny days the light comes through, parchment and glowing. I could see their shadows, bumping around. I could hear their buzzing, just past the window screen.

I pulled up the window shade and stood at the window. What are you doing here? I said to the bees.

They wavered and bumped, just outside the window screen.

What are you doing here! I said, my side of the window screen.

They wavered and bumped.

I pulled down the shade and went to the other room. I made myself a sandwich, cold bacon and mayo. I poured myself some water, straight from the tap. I looked out the window, there in the kitchen, open for the breeze. What are you doing here!

---

I made the phone calls at work. Home solar panels can save you up to sixty percent on your energy bills! The people hung up.

I went to the break room. I ate a thing of yogurt from out of the fridge. Help youre self! said the little sign.

Maxine almost came in. She saw me at the little table, eating the yogurt. Her one knee was inside of the break room, the rest of her out. She saw me at the little table, her mouth turning down, and went back to her desk.

---

It was five. Brutal day! said Dan. Dan was the best dressed in all of the office.

We were all going home. I had on my jacket, Dan had his on too.

I said, Two isn’t so bad. That’s five hundred commission. Dan was the best dressed in all of the office.

He squinted at me. How many for you?

I shrugged.

How many for you! He was red in the face.

One, I said, lying. The real number was none.

Dan put down his fists and shook his head sadly. Brutal, he said.

I imagined eating Dan’s testes.

---

I was doing something . . . with my laptop. I was thinking about Maxine.

Buzz.

I no longer heard them.

Bump.

I no longer saw them.

Bump.

I no longer knew them.

I went to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. I checked out my whiskers. I slapped myself in the face. I slapped myself in the face. I studied the red and white handprints there on my face. I poked out a little blood with the scissors on my cheek.

---

I went to the park. I watched the children on the slide. I watched the children on the monkey bars. I watched them playing a game in the sand.

I went to the bathrooms. It was dim and wet on the floor. The door of the stall had been torn from the hinges. I went into the stall.

When I was finished, I was flushing the toilet and washing my hands. The little high, square window let in some weak light. I saw the small bodies on the other side of the window. I stood on my tiptoes, looking out through the window.

Buddy, said the policeman, who walked into the bathrooms. What are you doing?

Using the bathroom, I said, turning around.

The policeman looked up at the window, the small bodies bumping around. What are they doing?

I don’t know, I told him. I looked over my shoulder at the small bodies bumping.

Get the fuck out of here, said the policeman, and never come back.

Out of the bathrooms?

Out of the playground. And never come back.

I walked out of the bathrooms, two mothers looking at me.

---

I pulled up the shade. I opened the window. I opened the screen. I lay naked on the couch and smelled the lake breeze come in.

When I woke up, there was a bee on my toe. The bee walked from my big toe over to the pinkie. It walked over each of the toes to get there.

The bee turned around, shaking its little yellow and black body, walked back to the big toe. It settled on my big toe with its glossy black eyes.

The other bee came in through the window. It settled on my other big toe, with its glossy black eyes.

The bright afternoon went purple. The purple went dark. I reached for the scissors. The blood trickled down my cheek, onto my chin. The blood trickled down my brow, into my eyes. The bees wiggled then settled on my big toes.

You’re boring, I said.

The bees crawled up my legs, met at the place where my legs come together. The bees, with their little black feet, crawled single file up the stiff length of its twitching.