The Hive

### The Spare Chamber “MORE BUZZ! BIGGER WINGS! SOMEBODY FETCH MY TINY HARD HAT!” The Hive’s architect spoke faster than a bee could blink. Outside, a storm stomped across the sky, demanding every drop of honey. He nearly obliged. Then he tapped the wall. “WAIT. WHAT IF WE DON’T POUR THE WHOLE PANTRY INTO THE WEATHER?” Instead, he built a spare chamber: crooked doorway, sturdy wax, one gloriously unnecessary window. “Not a trophy room,” he told the gathering swarm. “Breathing room. Somewhere to keep a little sweetness while we decide what comes next.” The bees added cushions, argued about paint, and named a suspiciously lumpy chair Captain Buzz. Outside: thunder. Inside: enough quiet for another idea. Even the loudest hive could leave one room unfilled.