One More Problem Solved

He holds the pen like a machine gun. Ambushed, blast them all!!!!!!!!

Aaahhhh, not hitting a mark, the ground’s completely unscarred. Yes, that blank sheet of paper: Unmarred.

…wait, Hola, looking for something. He’s checked the drawers. Thumbed texts! Gapped out windows. Humph, even consulted the stars. Then, all at once rising from hands and knees —from under the counter amidst the fluff— urgent gasps.

There it is! Make haste. Follow that bee with precious pollen, buzzing so’s we can taste the honey on the tip of his tongue! in the back of this mind!

Pen pierces paper with Idea.