A better post…

I did this previously and didn’t like what I wrote. So I will try it again to see if I get a better vote. I strenuously labored over my computer and keyboard, considered plugging in my iPod to listen to some tunes as I wrote and then decided nah, to much work. As I sat underneath the whirling ceiling fan I thought about where my iPod was and decided that it would be easier to catch a bumble bee hovering over a dandelion. But then I thought about that and into mine head did hatch the image of me-that is I- standing outside in a field of flowers-mostly dandelion, cause well, you know it just goes-and performing various acrobatic moves-not because I am an acrobat-no indeed not- and not because I was capturing previously stated bumblebee, no no, that is not the reason. No-the reason for the acrobatics would be because, at the time in which I decided to chase after the bumble bee with intent to catch him- though quite frankly I don’t know why something so pretty would be a he- his buddies decided that they were not going to go through another season of being chased and thus then decided to bombard me with their pointy little stingers wiggling away happily-though I cannot confirm that they were wiggling at this point because the moment that my brain and eyes interpreted the swarm of bees coming my way I decided to run all out as if my life depended on it in the other direction.
Sadly, this was not the end of this particular image-Oh no, indeed not. After the running for my life segment was over, I then flashed to another image. I am sitting in the doctors office with many red spots all over me from the many stingers that the doctor pulled out with his little doctor scissors, all the while he has to keep taking breaks because he is laughing so hard that he cannot hold his hand still long enough to pull out the stingers and stickers from the bush that I fell into trying to avoid the bees. The doctor, after continuously laughing at my expense, sent me off with a prescription and suggested that perhaps next time I wanted to try catching something that I should use something fancier than a plastic bowl. He then went on the explain-jokingly I hope- that perhaps the bees were offended by my taste and may have decided to come along quietly had I-that is me- had an alabaster vase from centuries gone by. At which point my daydream had a day dream of breaking said vase-which belongs to the doctor-against his chartreuse colored walls. At which point I was wondering if I should be making this doctor gay.
Be as that may, I went back to the original daydream and figured that it was time to go to the grocery store to pick up my prescription along with a few other items suggested by the laughing doctor. Did you know that there are at least half a dozen ointments that a person can buy to rub all over their bodies for various reasons? You almost need an interpreter for those so you don’t end up buying one that won’t work for your particular itch (though for future reference, benadryl works just as well for bee stings as well as poison ivy). At this point I have now encountered the Pharmacist. This pharmacist does need an interpreter as the only thing he seems capable of speaking about coherently is a relative of some sort (though it may be a dog unless that is really the name of the person the pharmacist is speaking about) who just became a doctor-though I am not sure if optometrist can be called that can they? Today everyone keeps laughing at me when they hear what happens, the pharmacist he was standing on a cube of some sort and fell off because he was laughing so hard- at which point I got to laugh (though that hurt too).
At this point I have decided that it would just be easier (and less dangerous) to get up and get my stupid iPod from my back pack and plug it in. Here’s to my music.



  1. Hi. I read both versions of your story, this and the earlier one. Before reading them, I thought that the second one was an expanded version of the first, but I see that it’s an entirely different story. That’s fine, people can be as creative as they like, and some other people have done multiple stories for the same Wordzzle words.

    I found both stories to be interesting. The first one was much smaller and tighter, and had a lot more tension in it. It also had some interesting and unexpected twists and turns, and while bad things were happening, there was a sense of amusement or irony about it.

    Some of this was also present in the second story, but in a milder way, particularly since the misfortunes happened in extended daydreams, and the person suffered no lasting harm (or death) from them. The second story also had its own type of enthusiasm about what was happening.

    I can sympathize with being poked with a lot of little sharp things, as happened to the person in the second story. When I was little I stepped on ground that was covered in tiny narrow stickers that had fallen off of weeds and other plants, and got them all over the soles of my feet. A few years later I ended up with a handful of Cholla cactus, which didn’t want to let go of me.

    Stephen from Scottsdale, Arizona, USA


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