It was mating season and I was single.
This is a bad situation to be in when you’re a wasp. It made me the laughing stock of my fellow wasps.
I’d dance, and wiggle, and fly in loops. But none of the girl wasps were interested in me.
Then, I found her.
The breeze sprang around to the North.
Her sweet scent sent me wild. I’d dreamed of meeting her. She haunted my sleep.
Finally, it got too strong.
My desire forced me to start looking for her.
I flew dead North. I flew until my wings ached and my eyes were watering.
Then, just as I thought I could fly no further, I saw her.
A snigger went up from a small group of other male wasps hanging around the bottom of a plant I’d never seen before.
I’d fallen in love with a flower.