Allyn

It never really got dark out here when the moon was full. The bright beams floated down and shot off the glassy surface of the pond, illuminating the grounds of the manor. Allyn preferred this type of light. The sun was often too bright for her eyes and skin, blinding her and burning patterns of freckles all over her arms and face. Even though she lived in the heart of California, her skin beneath the many freckles dotted about was a milky white. Norwegians had nothing on the alabastor shade of her legs. She hated the color. It made her sick, reminding her constantly of how he used to love it.

Allyn planted her hands on the damp grass and pushed herself up from a slouch, long blades pushed between her relaxed fingers and made tiny cuts on her skin. She didn't even notice the mildly irritating stings; they were nothing compared to her babies' venom. Even that didn't bother her: she possessed an immunity to them.

Speaking of her babies, she felt the familiar touch of the six legs crawling on her. The honey-girls were safe fliers and never took off in the dark. Instead, they crawled around the hive. Once in a while a young, inexperienced honey-girl wouldn''t make it back to the hive in time. Maybe she'd found a patch of flowers far away and got distracted. Or perhaps she didn't catch the whole dance her sister preformed for her and got lost. Whatever the reason, she was now crawling on the back of Allyn's hand. As soon as she felt the honey-girl's tired abdomen dragging on her flesh, she lifted her hand to eye level.

"Where do you belong, girlie?" she asked with a tenderness that hardly anyone ever whitnessed. She tilted her hand so that the moon's glittery reflection could shine on the girl just right. Three colored dots appeared as if by magic and Allyn knew exactly where she bel0nged.

"You're a long way off, babe." The softly spoken words mirrored the woman's feeling for the insect. Carefully, without using the hand where the barbed visitor perched, she rose to her feet and walked slowly towards the remote white box. It was one of the newer hive boxes, sitting on the edge of the orange grove that took up 12 acres of the property. It was a quiet and calm walk, taking 10 whole minutes to make the 40 yard treck. As soon as she reached the white hive, she lowered her hand onto its warm surface. The honey-girl crawled quickly off her hand and into her home. Allyn smiled, thinking of the one bee she knew lived on.