Down and Out

I picked up the lawn chair I had stored in the barn to keep it from being dried and cracked by the harsh summer sun.

I set it down in the usual place, between the side door of the house and the big elm tree. And I waited.

My prey emerged from the roof of the shed, lazily descending to the bushes below, then on to the patch of clovers. There, it paused.

I slowly took aim, one eye clenched shut, the other aligning the sight just to the right of my target.


The bee was down,


and out.

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