What’s My Story Then 5

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I didn’t really believe it, even then. I thought to myself, the old woman must be senile for sure! Bees, honey, windowsills, who would have thought the guys weren’t talking nonsense? The other mail carriers told me, don’t do it, don’t look, but I thought they were just razzing the rookie.

I was delivering the mail to her the first day on my route and was suddenly attacked by a swarm of bees. Dancing around, I lost control of the mailbag, and I regret saying this, but I was screaming like a banshee!

The home owner, old Ms. Danbury came hobbling out with a large jar of honey in her hand. All of a sudden the bees stopped hovering around me and magically went into the jar. I was gaining my composure when she invited me inside and have a cup of tea to calm me.

It was then she told me of her secret bee ways, showing me the honey encrusted window to her garden. Drawing me in, she turned the small key, opened the window, and offered a look out to her backyard where she kept beehives. Apparently, once in a while a few would escape their homes and bother a visitor, attracted to certain aromas eminating from them.

After that morning, I chose not to wear my favorite after shave cologne: Lavender Lover.

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