After a day of driving my mind is always buzzing with story ideas.
Not with just two or three conceptual bees, oh no. We’re talking whole hive action.
Workers and drones and queens and the bad boy bees that just exist to make girls squeal. Every bee is in on the act.
It’s loud and confusing and so over-sensitizing that I begin to buzz along in some kind of kooky harmony.
One day, I’ll be the chick buzzing in the straitjacket.
Won’t that be fun?