Because I was terrified, I learned nothing. I had stepped in a papery nest of ground wasps: a hateful swarm of them wreathed up around me and writhed and sang wordless rage. One stung me on the neck and I think I was shocked more than I was hurt: afraid of moving even an inch because that was what the world had become. I wonder if its frantic sting was death for the insect whose mind was all red. I don’t know my mind so I’m making up a story:
