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She is sitting. Smoking. Drinking cane juice. Talking on her phone. Suddenly she urgently asks for my help, holding her hand in my direction.
‘What is it?,’ I ask.
‘Something stung me.’, she wails slightly.
I pull out what appears to be a stinger and she continues to blubber a little.
‘What do you want me to do?’, I ask.
‘Find the bee.’, she requests.
‘Then what?’
‘I kill it!’