I Saved a Bee Which Dropped into my Coffee

In this instance, a description of the place and time does not matter and is of no consequence. I could be at my house or any other place, alone or with people, as these are matters which were of no consequence to the incident at hand. But it happened yesterday. You see, there was a bee which fell into my coffee. I could infer that it was a bee because it looked like a black ant with burnt orange stripes across its abdomen. That would be my definition of a bee. Of course, any other person would have defined it in a different way but still arrive at the conclusion that it was a bee. Still, another person would want to argue that this was not a bee but a wasp or another insect. One could go on to meet and argue and discuss and disagree with each other on the definition of a bee. One could of course present discussion papers and hold lectures and write books on why this insect should or should not be a bee. One could possibly enact laws and a regulatory framework to regulate the definition of a bee. It would not matter which way or the other, as in my definition, it was to me, a bee even as the world then was constantly being created and recreated in nanoseconds. It dropped into my coffee and that was that. And for a while, while my friends were talking and laughing and gesturing, I watched it struggling in the murky water with its legs vainly, attempting to escape its death. It would live for a while, but eventually, it would die, like all things should.

While the people were still talking and gesturing, I took the cup, raised it a little and tipped it, so that the bee and its contents fell into used tissue papers on a paper plate and the plate sat at the centre of the round table. For the bee, of course, it now had the opportunity to free itself from this certain death. Of course, the bee would not be able to see who had saved it. It could simply deduce logically that the cup had tilted and because of that it was able to save itself. It would not be able to discern my presence, because then, in its eyes, I would be so big that I would fill its entire vision of the sky. To the bee, I would not fulfill its own definition of the human being because I was so near that I appeared very big. It could recognise a human being if it could see that person from afar and that person fulfilled all logical equations to be defined as a human being. From near, it could possibly deduce that I was the sky. Any other bee, with a different set of experiences, would of course, disagree on the matter and would have placed me as a human being. The bees could of course gather together and discuss and argue and disagree on the definition of a human being. They could write books on the subject and books discussing the books being written about the definition of the human being. They could possibly enact laws and regulations to regulate the definition of a human being. It would not matter which way or the other to that bee, as in its definition, I was just the sky.

So there it was on the used white tissue and I looked at it intently and closely that I could almost touch it with my nose. Other than the place and its people, nobody noticed this odd relationship between a bee and myself. It picked itself up and with its legs, began to preen itself. For the coffee had stuck to its body and it would not be able to fly just yet. It reminded me of a cat preening itself. It cleansed itself well. By putting its lower leg into its mandible or mouth, it then proceeded to rub this lower leg on its body and its antennae. This it did with each leg. But the coffee was still stuck on its membranous wings and it would still be unable to fly. So, getting as close as possible, I decided to intervene and gently blew on the little insect but even the gentleness carried it a further away. Unfazed, and still oblivious to my presence and my intervention, it preened itself again and finally, it was able to part its wings. Of course, the people above it, were still talking and gesturing, completely oblivious to the presence of a little insect. Finally, the bee was able to fly again and it did. So, I saved a bee which had dropped into my coffee.