Bee Boy was lost in the snow on the way home or away from home though he hadn't realized he was lost yet. Bee Boy was neither a bee nor a boy but something new entirely. If you looked at Bee Boy and knew his name, you would think to yourself, "Yeah, okay, I get it."
Bee Boy shoveled snow with his hands to make himself a path. Soon enough, these hands were a cold glistening purple like the setting sun over an ocean with the reflection of his golden eyes standing in for the fading star. It was a complicated moment but still worth it.
Bee Boy was already comatose when they found him the next morning. They dragged him into a nearby cave. Some thought to themselves, "They drugged him into a nearby cave," and chuckled. They realized there was nothing to gain by helping Bee Boy and promptly fled.
Bee Boy woke up alone in the cave and declared it his new house. He decided to work from home and promptly started an online store selling nuts and berries he found in the surrounding forest, calling them "Individually-Curated Organic Snack Supplements". Within a week, Bee Boy was mildly famous. He soon hired a man with a bee costume to be his spokesperson and a tiny business student to collect the bits of food and run the store.
With all of his extra time, Bee Boy did a lot of hard thinking. He came to the conclusion that what he most needed was to build a second cave, identical in every way to the first, with his bare hands. He found a nice mountain and scraped until each finger was bleeding profusely. Back at the first cave, the business student washed and bandaged them.
Bee Boy slept in the forest that night. A family of lizards stopped and licked any uncovered cuts. Bee Boy laughed in his sleep. He woke to the smell of freshly poured asphalt though the source was invisible. Bee Boy contemplated his recent hand traumas. He talked to the business student over breakfast. She had almost gone to medical school but had decided against it only weeks before. Bee Boy was fascinated. Bee Boy asked her to marry him. The business student promptly fled.
Bee Boy called his mother. Bee Boy's mother was also neither a bee nor a boy but an elementary school principal from Decatur. Bee Boy told her his entire story to this point. His mother said he should call more often and also that she had to get back to work.
Bee Boy ate packet after packet of Individually-Curated Organic Snack Supplements. He auctioned off his company and bought a bus ticket to Illinois. The endless corn fields filled him with nausea. He listened to a dubstep remix and pressed his face into the bus window's glass far more than what was comfortable.
Bee Boy sat on his mother's couch eating cornflakes, popcorn, and a corndog while listening to the song on repeat and being stared at by a poorly trained golden retriever. The dog laid on the floor and spun himself in circles like a break dancer who believes life is ultimately suffocating. Bee Boy started dancing frantically too. He swung his arms and legs wildly, frightening most animals within a three mile radius excepting the retriever. Bee Boy's mother found him passed out in the bottom of the neighbor's empty jacuzzi after school. Without checking his pulse, she promptly fled.
Bee Boy dozed for two days and two nights as he was wont to do. Bee Boy sought to free himself from the endless cycle of sleeping and not sleeping, or as some would say, being awake and not being awake. Or maybe no one would say any of those things.
Bee Boy trekked across the country, walking only on borders to increase his feeling of nowhereness. He blindfolded himself to dull any sense of time outside of his body. People driving by would shout at Bee Boy and, when he told them his name, nod in understanding. Bee Boy reached the sea and rode in the depths of a cargo ship transporting rare earth metals to Osaka.
After much thought, Bee Boy joined the Kaihogyo, becoming a marathon monk and running endlessly in the mountains above Kyoto. He thus achieved enlightenment.
Kevin Tadge is a filmmaker and photographer living in New York. He also enjoys writing short stories, evidence of which can be found at kill author and Unicorn Knife Fight among other illustrious places. He occasionally wishes he had a very small pet owl and his favorite album is Dire Straits. Any remaining thoughts reside at www.kevintadge.com.