Thu, 24 Jun 2004
I dreamt that I was pouring myself a bowl of cereal. It was a brand I’d never tried before, full of nuts and granola and dead bugs.
For some reason, contrary to my usual practice, I poured the milk in first. Then I poured in the cereal. First the nuts and granola and then the heavier insects splashed into the bowl. Among the insects was a huge bee. It was three inches long, with a massively distended abdomen and tiny stunted wings.
I was alarmed to see that the bee was still alive. It was paddling drowsily around in the milk, as if exposure to liquid had roused it from a long hibernation. It was so large that I could hear its mandibles clicking.
I took a few steps back and set the cereal box down. I thought that if I waited, the bee would drown in the milk, and I could eat it. Instead, the bee seemed to regain strength. After a minute or so, it was sufficiently recovered to attempt to fly. It coiled its body and flung itself into the air. But it was too heavy for flight. It achieved an altitude of several feet off the counter, then fell heavily to the kitchen floor. It crawled around for a few seconds, its wings buzzing, then launched itself again. Once again it managed only a few seconds of flight before being dragged back down to earth by its swollen abdomen.
The bee attempted to fly again and again, failing each time. Meanwhile I was watching from the kitchen door, waiting for the bee to die.