Lolita gets clever

With  five hundred and fifty five  sacks of nectar  collected, I only have six more to go. Then I will be  collector of the week, Horace thought as he paused for a break.

It was humid and hot, not two of his favourite words but work was work and families had mouths and they needed to be fed.

He paused and with a neat flick his strawlike tongue zipped outwards and got …nada… zilch…nothing.

Again, it can’t be happening again. Oh gosh, that’s the third time today. I’m overworked, I’m finished I won’t make the top of the pollen charts today or tomorrow. I must be ill. As he ranted and raved, a strange noise caught his attention. He paused and looked about him. The other insects around were mostly bees or the odd horsefly, but he could have sworn he heard a giggle. He didn’t see anyone watching him.

“Oh god, its worse than I thought, I’m going cuckoo, mad, batty.” He shuddered – he hated bats.

Horace considered his options. To return home now would be to admit total and utter defeat.  “I’m not a quitter, ” he muttered. “I’ll move on to the next plant and try once more.”

Horace waited for the wind to lift and like the other butterflies about him he had a knack of taking off just at the right moment. However, today when he stretched his wings for take off, he noticed that something was not quite right. I feel as though I am gaining weight. Must go back to  Moving and Meditating Classes, they did me good the last time. He decided as he flew on to the next plant.

He landed with a thump and gave himself a minute. He closed his eyes and pictured a calm scene. Night time and his bed.

Meanwhile Lolita ladybug had unattached herself from him and was busy collecting nectar. Horace is exceptionally stupid, he closes his eyes for a minute each time he lands. She hummed as she worked.

Butterflies were famous for being less than clever but today she had hit the jackpot, so far she had robbed Horace of six sacks of nectar and if she played her cards right he would even give her a ride back home.

The sun was dropping to its bed, the level of noise was dropping as most animals were settling down for the night.  Horace was almost home. He was exhausted and flying low to the ground. As he flew over a discarded bicycle he noticed a strange reflection. It can’t be me, I am never that shape, he thought and circled for a better look.

Lolita, I will fix her. But saying it and doing it are two very different things. Horace didn’t want to hurt her merely give her a fright. Suddenly he saw the perfect place to do it.  It was a steep climb but he made it. He dropped very low over the basin and with a huge effort gave his wings a shake. The sleepy ladybird slid off the end of his wing, the sacks of pollen followed her dropping through the air. As Lolita woke with a fright she began to scream.  Feeling the sudden rush of air, she began to flick her wings to stop her fall.  It was enough for Horace to turn around dive between her and the sacks and collect them with his outspread wings.

“Don’t mess with me again. I am not stupid.” Horace said as he turned for home.

With a shrug Lolita vowed she would have better luck tomorrow as she too made her way home.

 

 

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The kite with a sting in its tail

 

It was hot. There was not the sound of a single bee buzzing. The wood appeared to be empty of animals, and magical beings.

Breeze was on his way to the river. He wanted to paddle his feet. A loud rustle among the leaves above startled him. He spotted a long tail and wondered if it was a giant mouse. It darted away from him. Breeze followed. He ran from tree to tree, staring upwards. Suddenly he tripped. He hit the ground with a loud thump.

Breeze discovered he had fallen over Hamish.

“Have you no manners?” yelled Hamish. “What are you doing squishing Elves?”

Pulling himself to his feet, Breeze replied, “Sorry there is a giant mouse in the trees.”

“Don’t be silly. They live on the ground, not in trees.” Hamish lay back on his bed of moss. “Go away, it’s nap time.”

Breeze decided to leave because a grumpy elf is better left alone. He walked on looking for the mouse and Tulip stopped him to ask why he was looking upwards. He told her about the mouse.

“Lets look for it together.” She said and then they heard it.

When they looked high amongst the trees they spotted a tail with ribbons on it, in a tree.   “If it is not a mouse, what is it?”

Tulip said, “It’s a kite.” she said and flew high above him to release it.

The kite landed at his feet. “What does it do?”

“I’ll show you.” Tulip took the kite and flew a short distance away. The wind caught hold  and the kite flew after her, swooping and diving. With it’s long tail dancing in the wind, it attracted a lot of attention.

Mrs. Groundsel and her grandchildren came to watch the fun.

As the kite tumbled about in the air something strange happened.

Each time it danced in a certain direction so did everyone on the ground.

If the kite dived to earth, everyone watching fell to the ground.

When the kite flew high into the sky, then everyone jumped off the ground and they rose high into the air.

Lily, a tiny ogre, was screaming, “make it stop, I don’t like it.”

The kite began to dance as it moved.

“This is not funny.” Mrs Groundsel puffed as she jigged about.

“I think I know who did this.” Breeze said and marched into the wood.

Tulip couldn’t pull the kite down. It continued to dance in the sky. Everyone watching danced on the grass.

“I’m too old for this.” Mrs. Groundsel said.

Breeze arrived back with a squealing young witch called Lovisma, tucked under his right arm.

“Let me down you oaf.”

He plonked her on the ground, saying, “Lovisma, I’m not an oaf. I’m an ogre.”

Lovisma saw the dancing crowd before her. She cackled with delight. “Oh you do look funny. My friends would love to see this.”

Breeze said,  “make it stop or I will lock you in with Hamish’s pet skunk, Smelly.”

“No, No, No.  You can’t. He stinks.”

“Why shouldn’t we? You have been nasty.” Breeze said.

“You are nice.” She looked at her feet. “You don’t do stuff like that.”

Breeze said, “Lovisma, make it stop.”

She clicked her fingers and the kite raced landed on the ground. Everyone sat for a rest.

“You are one mean witch,” Tulip said.

“But it was funny, wasn’t it?” Lovisma whispered.  “It wasn’t that nasty. Maybe I should try it in another part of the wood and tell my friends to come watch.”

Breeze said, “No you won’t.”

Lovisma trudged away saying, “Breeze is an oaf, a big spoilsport oaf.”

Everyone shouted after her, “No he is an Ogre!”