The Wrong Kind of Bees

I think that it was dear friend Marie who came up with the idea that certain kinds of stinging thoughts might in fact be Bees. Hatching and breeding in the brainhive, they soon find their way out and buzz about; they don't leave a poor heart alone for any time worth mentioning and they have the habit of reappearing, in dozens or swarms, as inconveniently as possible.

These winged heralds of longings uninvited are intended for a large poster -- working name of Methods for Mending Broken Hearts -- an anatomical scheme and overview. As for the heart, I haven't quite got started yet so right now the bees don't have anything to sting. But it'll come. You don't really know that you have a heart before you get the Wrong Kind of Bees buzzing around it.