Daniel de Culla
Daniel de Culla is a writer, poet, painter and photographer. He’s
member of the Spanish Writers Association, Earthly Writers
International Caucus, Poets of the World, (IA) International Authors, Surrealism Art, Friends of The Blake Society, Nietzsche Circle, and others. Director of Gallo Tricolor Review, and Robespierre Review. He participated in many Festivals of Poetry, and Theater in Madrid, Burgos, Berlin, Minden, Hannover and Genève .He has exposed in many galleries from Madrid, Burgos, London, and Amsterdam. He is moving between North Hollywood, Madrid and Burgos; e-mail: email@example.com
Damn! I was tired of picking grapes and I lay on my stomach, on my back on some towels, falling asleep next to a vine on Rita's pergola.
Of the wasps that did not sting by getting into empty beer bottles half filled with water and sugar, and hanging from the branches, a couple of them came and made a nest just behind my left knee that was more shrunken.
They didn't bite me or even noticed. And what my wife told a friend who came to help me pick grapes:
-If he falls asleep, move him away from the vine, not the old thing, that some pigeons screwed up on him.
Waking up, I grabbed a bunch of grapes to get up. And I almost fell, making the friend laugh, who had spent my time asleep sweeping and collecting the fallen leaves.
As I am not in the habit of showering, I did not notice the wasp's nest that was behind my knee, until one day when I felt a painful itch, telling my wife that it was very itchy, answering me:
-Hold on, it's not a thing.
Instinctively, I brought my hand to curl with my fingers and what was my surprise that I removed from behind my knee a small hive with a real dead wasp inside.