Trevor planned to kill himself on his sixteenth birthday. Mom always said that his condition restricted him to raw, organic produce, so…no cake. His heart murmur precluded driving, Homeschooling was for his own protection. College was off the table.
His suicide would be dramatic, his weapon ordinary. He strolled to Arlington Garden and found bushes buzzing with bees. He plunged in, flailing and swatting his way into certain anaphylaxis.
Trevor reclined on a concrete bench and waited for the end. And waited. Two hours later, he arrived home with a dozen bee stings, a dozen donuts and a new plan.
© Copyright 2016 Paula Johnson. All rights reserved.
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Paula Johnson is the founder and editrix of The Rose City Sisters website. She also designs book covers, websites and other print and digital communications.
16 thoughts on “Killer Bees by Paula Johnson”
I like your story, but love that you put in the video of Arlington Garden, a garden I’d like to visit.
I live just a few miles from it. People are surprised at how big it is. There’s a zillion plants, benches, tables, a labyrinth and a bocce ball court.
Now all I want is donuts!
Celery. Just think…CELERY.
I love the twisty ending. Somebody’s mom’s a liar. And I want donuts, too!
I do love a twist at the end. It’s my main form of exercise.
Love the twist. I’d wish him better luck next time, but….
Maybe the donuts will taste good enough to persuade against another try.
Well the bees couldn’t kill him but he hasn’t tried the donuts yet.
Thanks for your comments. I like how there are two intrepretations. Some think he’ll kill himself with the food. My thought is that he realized his mother lied about EVERYTHING, so he would enjoy some wheat-based treats and map out a new plan for his life.
OMG, bees terrify me, and I was thus so into that angle that I totally missed the significance of the donuts at first. Now all I can think is donuts.
But what if his mom was lying about everything except the special diet need and Trevor keels over from the donuts. I guess he’d die a happy man.
Good point. That’s what’s great about these little stories—they can be viewed a few different ways.
What I like in these very short stories is that they force the reader into imaging the full story. What they have before them is hints; clues. To know the story you have to fill in the blanks. The reader is forced to actively participate in the story.
In this case, it makes no sense unless you think about the few short lines you’re given. Donuts? You have to have been paying attention to the first paragraph. Suicide? It only makes sense if you’ve paid attention to the first words, the opening.
Wonderful story. Though it does leave me wondering what that new plan is.
Maybe I’ll write a sequel. From the mother’s point of view.
Oh, yes, please!