04.01.2003 - 2:25 p.m.

My brother and I. A long time ago, we would capture bumblebees in Mason jars. There was a sidewalk along the whole front of the house, and it was a perfect length to roll the jars down like bowling balls. At the end, we would unscrew the tops slowly, carefully, then in one motion open them and step back. The bees would fly up and up in drunken, careening circles. I never knew if we made them angry enough to fly after us, or if they were just trying to get away.

The best thing about it was the feeling of absolute power. Free bees were scary. I�d lost count of the times I�d been running through the yard only to step on one and get stung. Rolling them down the sidewalk was a gleeful and symbolic act of revenge, even if the bees we were rolling couldn�t have been the bees that had stung us, and even though the bees who stung us were already dead.

That space between emotion and logic wouldn't become problematic until years later.

-stonebridge

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