Hornet story

A few summers ago Hannah, Leonidas, Vera, Jasper and I were taking a walk back the lane. Jasper was about 2 years old and walking slowly. We had turned around to start walking home and I bent down to pick him up, because he was tired of walking. I straightened and felt my head brush a branch of the tree we were under. Suddenly I felt a burning pain on my face, and I put up one of my hands and as I touched under my glasses I felt stings. “Hornets!” I yelled. “Run!” I heard Hannah screaming in pain as she ran. I held Jasper and ran and herded Vera and Leonidas ahead of me. Everything looked blurry, and I realized I had pushed off my glasses in my desperate attempt to get the hornets off my face. My glasses were somewhere in the midst of the hornets. We reached home and found that Hannah and I were the only ones who got stung. Jenna, the bravest woman I have ever known, went back and retrieved my glasses. The next day I went back to the scene of the attack armed with hornet spray, gasoline and matches. There, hanging on a branch of a pine tree, was a hornet nest looking like a deadly Chinese lantern. Without remorse, I pointed the hornet spray through the opening on top. A buzz of beating, dying wings resounded. Grimly I poured a cup of gasoline on the nest and lit it quickly with a match. I watched as the hornets dropped to the ground in flames like warplanes.

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