#Ongoing Adventure: Open The Envelope
Some things just have to be investigated
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The envelope, stuffed through your mailbox without even a chip from its ornate wax seal, is glowing. Big deal. It reminds you a little of that science experiment gone wrong in college chemistry class. The one where an entire campus block had to be evacuated — but only one person was hospitalized and since it wasn’t you, your professor, or your lab partner, and it didn’t affect your grade, all seemed okay.
Yanking the burlap brown envelope from the recycling box you sink your incisors into the edge and slice it open. Rather than the scratchy hiss that you’re expecting a long moan bellows from inside the envelope. As the paper from within is flung towards the couch, a long, saliva-ish string of honey leaks out onto your wrist.
“Ouch,” you mutter, as the glob sizzles and burns your flesh. Staring as a wispy cloud of smoke dissipates, you notice that the tattoo of a bee has been scorched across the veins on your inner wrist. A bee that looks exactly like the one in the wax seal still intact on the envelope. “What the…?”
You’re not actually experiencing any pain, save for a slight headache at the very base of your skull. You remember the smell of beeswax and royal jelly from accompanying your grandparents on their pre-winter honey harvesting trips. That very scent has invaded your nostrils, reminding you of the apiary and its surrounding acres of clover, and also tingling you with a bit of apprehension.
This is just so weird and slightly wonderful that you aren’t sure what to do.
Options:
👉 Call a friend. 👉 See if the neighbors are home. 👉 Go to the hospital.
© Jennifer J. McDougall 2021
