Lying in the hospital bed, the "Get well" cards decorating the space around you, the creams and ointments soothing, you realise you haven't checked your bank account since The Incident.
You pick up your phone and log in to internet banking.
"Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Why is it taunting me? Sacramento was _nothing_ to this. _Nothing._"
A tear rolls down your cheek.
Through the window a lone bee watches. The tear it sees is good, but not enough. It will go back to the hive and dance to communicate to the others your pain, but their ultimate failure in their plan. They will regroup. They will be back.
You pick up your phone and log in to internet banking.
"Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Why is it taunting me? Sacramento was _nothing_ to this. _Nothing._"
A tear rolls down your cheek.
Through the window a lone bee watches. The tear it sees is good, but not enough. It will go back to the hive and dance to communicate to the others your pain, but their ultimate failure in their plan. They will regroup. They will be back.