AN: I wrote this for a photo project I did in high school.
There once was a girl who inexplicably found herself transformed into a bee. She didn't know what happened. One minute she was reaching up to take a closer look at a flower, then the next she felt that everything got much… bigger… Not only that, the colors also started to change when she blinked. The final clue that proved something was wrong though was when, passing by a bee, she heard it yell, "Momo! Where've you been? We need your help!"
It struck her as odd that she understood this bee but, after some thought, she came to the conclusion that she just dreamed she was once a human.
Then, off she went to work. She had to get as much pollen for the hive and the best pollen came from the most beautiful flowers. One after the other, they all tasted wonderful. Her favorite flower—because of its exquisite coloring—was what humans call the Bird of Paradise yet, she could find no pollen from it.
'Why do humans like a flower that doesn't even have pollen?!' she angrily asked out loud.
She was very tired after so long trying to get pollen from a flower without any so she rested in the shade beneath very delicate petals. In the hot, hot sun, all she wanted to do was rest and drink something refreshing but then it seemed as if the world around her started to dissolve beneath her. She started to feel very loopy and as if the world around her didn't exist. Her pained, tired wings lowered and melted into her back. The soft, velvety petals beneath her became solid, waxy, and uncomfortable. She was getting very confused and slightly scared when she started to hear a slight buzzing, muffled noise in her ears. It became louder and clearer until she could finally make out words: "—ject six will be due next Thursday. Does anyone have any questions?"
Angela was startled awake by a slight shaking.
"Angela, wake up. Class is almost over." Christian whispered to her.
A confused look washed over her face.
'What happened to my flower?' she mused to herself…
"Are you ok?" Arlene asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." She responded yet she still thought to herself, 'I wonder why I dreamed I was a bee…'
But what she should have asked is what if this is a dream…?
End Note: I found out from another reviewer that momo in cantonese means soft fur (or something along those lines). M thought that was interesting because "bees have the little hairs on their bodies... kinda like fur right?"
That was definitely not intentional, but very interesting to find out. :)