I was born into a large family, most of us just drones, destined not for greatness, but for obedience. I always wanted to be more, perhaps a hero, but fate held a different ending for me.
I have no recollection of the time other than the day was bright, the air filled with hundreds of us. The skies were a sight to behold I can tell you, I felt so strong and connected to my brothers. Then the target appeared before us and for a moment there was hesitation, a pause, as though it was only right that we should wait. The target moved on and then stopped. In the blink of an eye we descended, swarming to attack and achieve our goal, victory seemingly certain.
But my brothers began to fall, shot from the sky by something inexplicable, unseen. Our ranks were being devastated, yet we flew on, determined to intercept the target and become the heroes of our dreams, perhaps be knighted by our Queen. A few of us cut through their defences and struck the target one after the other, our reward excruciatingly close. Yet it was not to be. By some unseen hand we were dealt a death blow that struck us to the ground.
As if by some cruel twist our reward fell with us, splattering all about, coating us in its sweet nectar. As I lay broken on the floor, that sweetness on my lips, I thought of my Queen, of things never to be and buzzed my last waspish buzz as darkness closed all around.
Buzzanther “ice cream lover” Wasp