“What on earth am I doing here?” he thought to himself.
He had stumbled across a field of sunflowers bursting forth
in bright yellow hues against a cloudless blue sky. It was every tourist’s
dream, a prize trophy to be liked and admired on his Instagram. He felt his
fingers twitch excitedly as they rest upon his camerabag.
Yet, how quickly his dream morphed into a nightmare. As his
sensible hiking shoes crunched the dry, dusty soil of Tuscany, the nettles and
weeds assaulted his sunblock-protected ankles and calves, biting and tearing
his white cotton socks as he attempts to outmanoeuvre those pesky plants.
He stopped.
His ears detected an almost imperceptible buzz wafting
through the air. His eyes picked out a small insect resting upon the middle of
the sunflower. It was a bee.
No but wait. Each flower had a bee, some even had two,
three. They all buzzed, hovering dangerously close to him as they flit between
the flowers.
He cautiously began to extract his feet from the
nettle-infested ground. But his camerabag swung and hit a sunflower, dislodging
its bee-occupant.
The bee shot forth from its flower, buzzing angrily for
having been so ungraciously displaced. It flitted in the air, searching for the
source of the disturbance.
Clutching his bag, the tourist stayed still. Perspiration
gathered on his forehead as the bee landed on his nose.
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