In the middle of Berlin,
where once no stories were written along the Wall, the shiny new buildings stand smoothly in the area, as symbols of status and the like.
The unknown parts of the city, on the other hand, where it is once again allowed to get old and rotten, and a few still undeveloped places unseen by unobservant eyes and unheeded by well-fed stomachs, offers the curious stray some variety.
Through a picket fence he hears the sound.
Now and then an insect comes flying through or over the fence. Through a gap, you can see some beehives standing on the grounds. A whole tiny garden opens up there.
Now and then you see an elderly woman come out of the dark interior through a rusty door, wearing work gloves. She spots you peering curiously, questioningly through the crack.
"Come in, come on!" she calls at you, waving a hand towards her. She points to an entrance some steps away.
You think about it for a few seconds and she already goes inside: "Coffee, tea?" There you are, standing in the small courtyard. "Coffee, thank you!" you call after her. Inside you hear a clatter and then she is there again, holding out a cup. You take it.
"What do you want?" she asks.
No one ever speaks to you like that, you are irritated, which gives you time to say, stumbling,
"I ... don't know yet."
She is silent and looks at you almost maliciously. Or is it because you are not used to looking into unblinking eyes? You smile because you are unsettled by her invitation and not being very generous with words.
"That's a good start, boy. Not knowing what you want and knowing you don't have to know right away."
I have to repeat that in my mind, but while my intellect is still dealing with it, my body already knows, my feet find their way to a chair, I sit down. Don't I always say to my people that I'm on the lookout for those who don't fit in? How easy it is to say that among friends and how difficult it is not to immediately dismiss strangers who irritate you.
But does she have to call me "boy"? I ask her though, as it buzzes around my ears,
"Bees, is it difficult to keep them here?"
"Well, what do you think?" she snorts and clasps the city with her hand. "Do you see any flowering trees or gardens like mine anywhere?"
I shake my head, thinking that maybe the term "boy" isn't so wrong after all.
"People think they're insects," she says, musing. "They talk in comparisons and are always comparing themselves to the strongest and the most frail. Yet there are perhaps only one or two analogies in the whole world that really hit the mark!"
"Is that why you prefer being with bees to being with people?", I want to know.
"Don't be such an idiot! And whence do you even suppose that I prefer bees to humans? What a completely absurd idea!"
"Oh, ..." I feel stupid, it occurs to me just at this very moment that I'm talking like a film figure, or ... no, ... I'm treating the woman like a movie character.
I hit my forehead with my hand, lust rises up my chest, runs through my limbs and I laugh heartily. I say:
"Good woman, I am no longer familiar with having a normal conversation. My head is full of judgments that lie in millions of boxes and immediately open a drawer into which I put the people I meet. I'm sorry, I'm so used to petty discord and that it takes me a while to .... to ... "
"It's all right," she waves it off. "I'll sell you a quart of honey."
She rises and soon returns with a large jar. I am pleased to be understood in such a direct way. I pull a note out of my wallet, hold it out to her questioningly, she nods.
We talk for a while, then I leave. Hands in my pocket.
BEGINNING OF STORY.
The above is my story for the #POB-WOTW writing contest. I saw it the first time today and felt inspired to take part. It's a long time ago I participated in a story-writing contest (remembering how much fun I had back then with the Bananafishes and all the creative entries).
I really hope that I could deliver the message I intended. I am curious to know what you think of this little episode with two strangers.
Here are the requirements and here you find the challenge posted:
Write an article that uses all of the following four words: Hive, Discord, Malicious, and Frailty.
Do not write about the Hive blockchain.
Do not commit plagiarism.
Use the #POB-WOTW tag if you are participating in the contest.
Please include the use of the hashtag(#) when using the #POB-WOTW tag inside of your article. It keeps this contest viewable in the trending tags. Also, only use the #POB-WOTW tag if you're participating in the contest. For example, if you write a POB-Daily post that has nothing to do with the contest, then you're article won't be counted.
Including all the words in the title of the article, and then not using it within the article, is not the intent of any word-related contest. Challenge yourself. Have fun with it. Engage yourself.
Many thanks to @scholaris for running this contest.
Picture source: Pixabay