Expectations

A fuzzy bumblebee sways to-and-fro, hovering above a violent red rhododendron. It lands daintily on the outside of the center and gracefully crawls inside of the chosen flower to take care of its business. It reemerges, dusted in yellow pollen and takes off to its next victim. The bee is a steady independent worker. It completes tasks efficiently and productively. The next flower quivers as it reemerges again and then it sways back in relief as the bee flies to the next.

He sits on a bench directly across from the activity watching different black, orange, and yellow workers compete in their disappearing acts.

“If only life were that simple,” he whispered aloud.

His eyes squint into focus on the insects and he leans forward resting his elbows on the tops of his knees he exhales loudly and inhales a large enough breath to make Michael Phelps envious.

“Why can’t life be like that… I know who I am, I know what I have to do, and I know what’s expected of me by others...”

He leans back again and relaxes against the back of the bench.