The Bees: A Narrative Fiction

One day, Lily and her younger sister Milly went to the carnival and on the way they passed by the zoo. This reminded Lily about how much Milly loved penguins. Suddenly, Milly interrupted her thoughts, “This year, I want my birthday party to be at the zoo!” “Yes! I can't wait to go!” exclaimed Lily, “I'd rather be at your birthday party every year just like before, rather than be watched over the babysitter!” Just then, the car turned into the parking lot and stopped. Lily’s dad hurried out of the

movie.” “In my defense, I just wanted to expand your limited knowledge on bees. Was my compassion so malicious?” “Well, you can call me queen bee when I tell you to get your head out of that dictionary. At this point, your vocabulary may become larger than your ego.” “How rude…” Joseph sulkily walked out of the sitting room and into his room, but not before snatching the two kilogram dictionary from the couch. “Bees? Why bees?” Maxime muttered to herself as she stared up at the ceiling. “You know

All that Petunia had wanted as a child was to have the magic that Lily flaunted. Petunia wished and pleaded to anyone who would listen to give her something. Even a tiny amount of magic would do, enough to make her special. Her sister had always been more beautiful, more intelligent, kinder and easier to love. Petunia would never quite loose the envy that began to grow from seeing the pride in her parents eyes. Perfect lily with her eyes and hair and, now, magic. Nothing had been the same since

All of the bees were welcoming and kind, but the moment she proposed the idea of helping the city, looks of terror crossed their faces. They were terrified of the thought of leaving their home, the only place they believed they were safe. Beatrice couldn’t just let

mean he quits? Surely he isn’t quitting just because of the way the boss talked to us. I thought about stopping to see what else happened, but the other two girls didn’t seem to pay it much attention. Some people may see the three of us as the “queen bees” of this little town. We were the pretty girls that everyone looked at, but that doesn’t mean that we were perfect. I usually looked like the “boss”, but in reality I didn’t see myself as being any better than the other two girls. “Well wasn’t he

Moth is young, barely two weeks old, so she is of course curious about everything. Look at all the colors here, she constantly thought as she whisked herself around the garden. The world she lived in was of course radiant, full of wonderful things and a huge spectrum of color. Take for instance, flowers, the epitome of beauty. Pretty to look at, they come in various shades, and are very sweet- with the nectar on the inside. Best choice of food ever, she had thought the moment she had first drank

Underground Airlines and The Secret Life of Bees tell related thematic concepts through distinctly similar and different ways. Both Underground Airlines and The Secret Life of Bees discuss themes along the lines of, racism and prejudice brings pain and injustice, and to not judge a book by its cover. These two thematic concepts develop together throughout the course of each novel. Each novel has an individual narrative; Underground Airlines containing one of thrills and suspense set in present day

painter left “a small blue bowl on the porch outside his door” with dead bees in a bowl filled with rose petals in the morning. This may be Hass’s reflection that something that is while something was taken away from the woman, doesn’t mean she is less beautiful as a person on the inside. Perhaps that is what the dead bees under the rose petals mean: that even though the young composer could not love and “pollenate” her the way bees pollenate flowers, he should have appreciated and even admired the sacrifice

transformative favorable position. They delivered female cells that remained on the plant and male cells in dust that could be spread to treat neighboring plants. In the meantime, the angiosperms made themselves appealing to bugs, flying creatures, and honey bees, which brought about these animals conveying dust, starting with one plant then onto the next, making an unfathomable blast of assorted variety. Through some secretive, however exact transaction of shading, fragrance, and symmetry, these cunning angiosperms

fantasy, horror, and science fiction. The mixed nature of the “Gothic” defined in its genre were tales of many types – sword-and-sandal epics about fearless barbarian heroes, chilling tales of unearthly New England monsters, and haunted houses filled with unseen supernatural occurrences. Out of these stories in the “Gothic tradition”, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is one of the most influential novels in history. It is considered by many to be one of the first science fiction novels. Often these stories