Photo prompt © janet webb
‘Grandpa, that’s not possible? You never got stung?’
‘Only once; I recall that day vividly. A wasp had landed on my reading table. I pounced on it with a handkerchief in my hand and caught it. Very carefully and cleverly I exposed its tail. I used my right thumb and first finger like a pincer to pluck wasp’s sting. But before I could reach its sting, it stung me. Terrified, I released it. Soon my hand was swollen; the pain was unbearable.’
‘She thrashed me. She disliked this game of tying strings to wasps’ legs.’
The kid laughed; he loved this part of the story.
A post for FridayFictioneers on a photo prompt. The post is partly inspired by a childhood incident.
Word count 107