The Secret Ingredient
“Oh nononono.” I raise my hands and back away. “That’s not what I signed up for!”
Marley thrusts the bucket in my face. “You wanted to learn my mead recipe, didn’t ya?”
“Well, yes, but–”
“And mead comes from honey!”
“Yes, I know that, but–”
“And honey comes from bees, you tomfool pansy little boy!” On the word bees, he whacks me with the bucket. “Now get out there and collect some honey.”
I scan the field where giant horse-sized bees browse the flowers.
I chant under my breath, preparing to sprint. “Think of the mead. Think of the mead.”
Getting out my Friday Fictioneers post a bit late this week! This story was written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’s weekly Friday Fictioneers flash fiction event. The challenge is to write a 100-word story using a photo prompt. As always, I welcome comments and constructive feedback and love browsing the other entries as well!