vespidae vespula

It had been a good life for Vesley. A long life. But he had come from a family known for its martyrdom, and so having a long life was not a good thing. But, alas, he had moved to a particular place in his youth and the Enemy here, no matter how he tried, preserved his life. It was torture.

He could enter their dwellings, torment their children, and yet they still saved him. Cup and paper, repellent that did not kill... this Enemy was merciless in its sanctification of his wings.

So he came up with the Great Plan: not merely to encourage the Enemy to kill him, but to force them to. 

So he followed his usual technique for entering the building, only something went wrong. This particular Enemy's hair was unruly, and it was windy, and he got caught in it, stuck to the Enemy's head. And went unnoticed! What seemed at first a misfortune, could be good!

And it was! Soon he could feel the hair moving, as the Enemy absent-mindedly smoothed the hair. And BAM! He stung her.

Her yelp of panic was sweet justice, and his continued attachment to her hair was even better. Another chance to sting, perhaps? But no! She ran past the mirror, into the hall, to the neighbor, who finally found Ves and with a simply flick, flung Ves to the floor.

The nearing shoe and Vesley's inability to fly (from the force of the landing) were sweet poetry. The chance, finally, to be a martyr.

(Image from Wikipedia.)

Yes, there was a yellow jacket stuck in my hair. No, I didn't know it was there when I smoothed my hair. Yes, I'm am very happy that my next door neighbor was home and could rescue me.