Polly McPhee was not a bee.
2005-02-23 - 2:57 p.m.

Polly McPhee, the lonely hornet. Polly scouted out beehives and wished she could fit in. Stinging for fun, Polly ran the town. Her trunk portrayed a lusty desire for new capabilities. Miss McPhee got herself into astoundingly secluded states of mind, all purely accedental. She could become something new, she was sure. She flew until she stunk, and hovered above the apple tree on top of a hill. She renamed herself, yet remained herself. She wasn't sure what to do with the inevitability of being who she was. It confused her to the point where she would frustratedly sting picnickers and fair-goers mercilessly. Finally, she had a long warm bath and accepted that it was nearly tea-time.

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