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The Bees’ Knees: Chapter 3

Beecoming a Man


“You know when I told you that thing.”

“What thing?” “Nothing.” “COME ON.”

Janet was extremely volatile nowa- days. She slipped into a fury like a seal into water, and like a seal, found it very difficult to get back onto dry land.

“That thing about me and Beatrice.”


“Can you stop shouting please?” “Jerry, our problem doesn’t concern Beatrice.”

But it did. Years ago I’d had a brief encounter with “Beatrice”. It was a purely sexual affair that lasted no more than, let’s say, ten minutes.

But that pseudonym covered up my shame no better than Adam’s fig leaf. I told Janet what actually happened that day, and who with.

“You mean to tell me-”

“Yes. My love for the bees extends further than you previously thought.”

Sick fuck. Beedo. Beelzebub.

I woke up the next morning to find my suitcase next to the hive. This was it. My decision made for me. I gingerly pressed my lips to the wood and whispered:

“It’s going to be alright, hunny”

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