I stepped on a yellow jacket in my bare feet. I felt a zing shoot through my foot and when I looked down I saw the little guy struggling for life. I disembowled him. I had to pull his stinger from my foot. They pack a punch for their size. It's amazing when you think about it. The amount of energy they have stored up in them.
Four or five of his yellow jacket buddies were circling around him as he died. It was almost as if they were checking to see if he was alright, or if they could help in anyway. They were still circling when he finally died. It was a funeral of sorts for making the ultimate sacrifice. I left them alone just in case they had intentions of revenge.
My foot still hurts, but thankfully I didn't swell up and break into hives. The sting is interesting to me. The immediacy of the pain. My reaction to it. I poured rice vinegar on it. I figured that it would keep it clean, but I was hoping it would take the pain away. I was in a bit of a panic and grabbed the first thing that came to mind as a remedy. It didn't take the pain away. I guess the only remedy for a sting is time. Time heals all stings, personal, or otherwise.
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