The Weekday One Hundred

A warm sunny day with blue skies and a cool breeze. Perfect conditions for an afternoon hike… until they weren’t.

Kent barreled down the hill, sidestepping jagged, upturned rocks and brown, dried out shrubs. He had abandoned the trail, and not by choice.

Then he spotted it – his salvation. A lake. Not especially wide or deep, but he didn’t care. It had water.

Kent dove headfirst and stayed submerged. It shouldn’t take long, he thought.

But he should’ve known better, should’ve read those Scientific American magazines that showed up every month.

Then he’d know that bees are patient.

Bees wait.