My window has a great view facing towards the river. In the evening, the setting sun shines its golden rays right onto every little detail in the room. The dresser by the door, the stool near the dresser and the little animal in the windowsill. The poor thing must have found its way in when the weather was too hot to leave the window closed yesterday. And now it was here – all still and cold in my window. I opened the window again as soon as I saw, hopefully hoping that it would get up and fly through the crack as good as new. But it didn't. So, I brought it water and realized that a glass of water was like an ocean to him and that he would only drown if I poured it onto him. So, I carefully dipped a finger in the class and let a single drop drop on the little body. I think I saw his little stinger twist, but it was probably just my imagination.
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A Bee in the Windowsill
Short StoryWhen a little bee finds its way into a warm house, its story of recovery is definitely worth telling. "He was still there. Still cold and still and now covered in water. Poor guy. I decided to close the window again when I noticed something else. A...
