Hive mind indicates that everyone follows orders. No one questions this.

Until one day, you find yourself staring over a field of flowers. Cosmos, they are called. Cosmos bipinnatus. The Mexican Aster, some call them. 

They are pretty, but you cannot help but wonder what else there is. After all, those scents that drift on the wind, the particles of a strange nectar, an unknown ambrosia – surely they come from somewhere.

No, no, no, you hear the whisper on the wings of your friends. Your family. Your colleagues.

The opinion has been given, the order must be obeyed.

You land on another flower, dusting yourself in its pollen; predictably sweet. The same as always. But what if, what if…

The buzzing in your ears intensifies, the hum of the other workers’ wings, the hum that keeps you all afloat. No. No. No. No. No.

The hive is waiting, the hum reminds you. The queen is waiting. The honey is waiting.

They must not be waiting long.

Heavy with pollen and persuasion, your decisions weigh you down as you take off once more. Their decisions. Their decisions, become your decisions.

The hive is waiting. The queen is waiting. The honey is waiting.

And then the wind throws you off course. Suddenly, up turns to down; wrong turns to right. The hive mind cannot reach you. The flowers are the sky; the sky is beneath you. And instead of fighting it, you make the split-second decision to let the wind take you.

Their echoes are already fading. Their hold is already slipping. You can almost see it – a field of your own, filled with colours. Pollen. A heavenly scene, so close that you can almost taste it.

And then you land, tendrils of cloud wrapping their arms around you.

You have never seen a spider’s web before.

The hive mind is far away – they do not hear your delirium. They will never find you.

It is liberating, you tell yourself. For once in your life, you are free!

Or, at least, you were.

THE END.