I found a dead bee drowned in rainwater on the porch of Sloughside Studies, where I work. I picked him up by wing and brought him in my car with me as I was leaving. I put him on the dash on a bit of paper. He was most certainly dead.
Later, I went inside to collect books to return to the law library. When I resumed driving, he was all a flutter around my head in circles. I thought, this zombie bee must die! But then I didn't want to risk a sting so I rolled down the window and transplanted him from Edison to Bow Hill at the intersection of Samish Hts (Sandwich Heights, Max says) and Hobson (Hotdog) Road.
This was the most exciting thing that happened to me yesterday.
The end.
[Two days earlier, two wasps emerged from studiomate David's easel as I was borrowing it. I stepped on one to kill it. It just started moving it's little wasp legs around again. It is certainly undead, I fear.]
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