B City

My 200 word offering to the writing prompt ‘Passion’ at WritingThe200

It wasn’t an A city. It was more of a B city. The locals even took to referring to Black Rock Flats as Bee City, based mostly on the preponderance of passionate backyard beekeepers. Despite the poor soil and dry conditions, gardens flourished for miles around. In a town where hovering bees were a constant presence, cats and dogs learned quick to mind their own business where the fuzzy bumblers were concerned.

Annual summer festivals featured a honey taste off where everyone and their neighbor rented a booth to peddle jars of sweet stuff alongside drizzled over plates of waffles, chicken legs, and ice cream.

It was just a matter of time before the retired circus bears got wind of the community, rolled into town on squeaky unicycles to assess the offerings. On the first day of festival, they arrived en masse, waited patiently in line with their pension checks to buy out each vendor’s stock before passing out drunk in the adjacent meadow. They eventually stirred, stumbled around, sniffed out hives and wreaked havoc before franticly peddling back to their hillside dens. The locals, busy counting their sticky money, never noticed the tornados of swarming angry bees forming overhead.

 

 

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