Doodlebug Dorian’s Big Brave Buzz
- LettersLetter
- May 13
- 5 min read
Dorian lived at the bottom of a small, sandy pit.
It was a very good pit.
The sand was soft and cool. The walls were neat and round. A wide green leaf leaned over the top like a roof. Only a little bit of light slipped through.
Dorian liked it that way.
“Nice and quiet,” he said to himself.
A tiny grain of sand slid down the wall.
Dorian watched it fall.
“Yes,” he said softly. “Very safe.”
Up above, the garden moved and whispered. Grass swayed. Leaves rustled. Something small scurried past now and then.
Dorian stayed right where he was.
“I don’t need to go up there,” he said.
He had never climbed out of his pit. Not once.
The world outside was big.
Too big.
And sometimes… too loud.
Dorian wiggled deeper into the sand and let out a small sigh.
“I like it here,” he said. “I like it very much.”
For a while, everything was still.
Then
Bzzzzzz…
Dorian froze.
His tiny legs stopped moving.
His eyes blinked.
“What… was that?” he whispered.
The sound faded away.
Dorian waited.
Nothing.
He let out a slow breath.
“Just the wind,” he said quickly. “Probably just the wind.”
He shifted in the sand.
Then—
BZZZZZZ…
This time, it was louder.
Closer.
Dorian ducked down low.
“Oh no,” he said. “Oh no, oh no.”
He looked up at the bright circle of light at the top of his pit.
Something was up there.
Something that buzzed.
“What makes a sound like that?” Dorian asked himself.
He thought very hard.
Maybe it was something big.
Maybe it had wings.
Maybe it had lots of wings.
Dorian’s eyes grew wide.
“Maybe it’s looking for me,” he whispered.
The buzzing grew louder.
BZZZZZZZZZ!
Sand trembled down the sides of the pit.
Dorian tossed a bit of sand upward without thinking.
“Go away!” he squeaked.
But the buzzing did not go away.
It circled above.
Closer. Louder.
Dorian curled into himself.
“I am just a tiny doodlebug,” he said. “You don’t want me. I am not interested at all. Very boring, actually.”
The buzzing stopped.
Just like that.
Silence.
Dorian did not move.
The quiet felt… strange.
Too quiet.
He slowly lifted his head.
“Hello?” he called, very softly.
No answer.
He inched a little higher in the sand.
Just a little.
He peeked up.
The light at the top of the pit looked the same.
But something flickered near the edge.
A shadow.
A small movement.
Dorian tilted his head.
“What is that?” he whispered.
He climbed one tiny step higher.
The sand shifted under him.
He slipped.
“Ah!” He slid back down a little.
Dorian paused.
His heart was beating fast.
“I don’t have to look,” he said.
But he did look.
Very slowly, he climbed again.
One step.
Then another.
He reached the edge of his pit and peeked over.
And there
Was something yellow.
And black.
And moving.
“Oh!” Dorian gasped.
It was the buzzy thing.
But it did not look big.
It did not look scary.
It looked… stuck.
A small bee was tangled in a flower. Sticky petals clung to her wings. Thin strands held her legs.
She buzzed weakly.
“Bzz… bzzz…”
“Oh dear,” said Dorian.
He ducked down quickly.
Then peeked again.
The bee wiggled.
“I can’t get out!” she said. “Oh bother, oh bother!”
Dorian blinked.
“She talks?” he whispered.
The bee buzzed again, softer this time.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Dorian pulled back.
He slid halfway down his pit.
“This is not my problem,” he said quickly.
He nodded to himself.
“Yes. Not my problem at all.”
But he stayed very still.
The bee made a small sound.
“Please,” she said. “I think I’m stuck.”
Dorian looked up again.
Then down.
Then up.
Then down.
“I like my pit,” he said.
He pressed into the sand.
“I like being safe.”
The bee struggled again.
Her buzzing was weak now.
“Just a little help…” she murmured.
Dorian’s legs twitched.
He took one step up.
Then he slid back.
“No,” he said. “Too big. Too bright. Too… everything.”
He looked up again.
The bee was not moving as much now.
Dorian swallowed.
“I could just take a tiny look,” he said.
He climbed again.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The sand shifted under his feet.
But this time, he did not slide back.
He reached the top.
And then
He climbed out.
Dorian stopped.
The world was huge.
The light was bright and warm. The air moved all around him. The grass stretched tall like trees. Colors were everywhere, green and yellow and soft brown.
Dorian trembled.
“Oh my,” he said.
He took one small step forward.
The ground felt different.
Firm.
Open.
He looked back at his pit.
It seemed so small now.
“Just one step,” he whispered.
He turned toward the bee.
She was right there, tangled in the flower.
“Hello,” Dorian said.
The bee’s head lifted.
“Oh! Hello!” she said. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! I seem to be a bit stuck.”
“I can see that,” said Dorian.
He moved closer.
Very slowly.
“I’ve never been out here before,” he added.
“Well, it’s very nice out here,” said the bee, though she was still stuck. “Usually.”
Dorian looked at the sticky petals.
“They’re holding your wings,” he said.
“Yes,” said the bee. “And my legs. And a little bit of everything else.”
Dorian frowned.
“I think I can help,” he said.
He reached out.
Then pulled back.
Then reached again.
“Careful,” said the bee gently.
“I am always careful,” said Dorian.
He nudged a petal.
It stuck to his leg.
“Oh!” he said.
“Sorry!” said the bee.
“It’s alright,” said Dorian.
He pulled his leg free.
Then he pushed the petal again.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The petal peeled away.
The bee wiggled.
“Oh! That helped!” she said.
Dorian worked on another sticky strand.
Then another.
Each one took time.
Each one made his heart beat fast.
But he did not stop.
“You’re doing very well,” said the bee.
Dorian said nothing.
He was very busy being brave.
At last, the final strand snapped free.
The bee pulled her wings loose.
She lifted into the air.
Bzzzz!
Dorian jumped.
Then he blinked.
The sound was the same.
But it did not feel the same.
The bee hovered in front of him.
“I’m Bea,” she said brightly. “Thank you for helping me!”
“I’m Dorian,” he said.
“That was very brave,” said Bea.
Dorian looked down.
“I was scared,” he said.
“That’s alright,” said Bea. “I was scared, too.”
Dorian looked up.
“You were?”
“Oh yes,” said Bea. “Being stuck is no fun at all.”
She buzzed gently around him.
“See? Just me,” she said. “Not scary.”
Dorian listened.
The buzzing was soft now.
Almost nice.
“Not scary,” he said slowly.
“Not at all,” said Bea.
Dorian looked around the garden.
It was still big.
Still bright.
But it did not feel quite so overwhelming.
“It’s… kind of pretty,” he said.
“It is,” said Bea.
Dorian smiled a little.
A very small smile.
“I think,” he said, “I might come out again sometime.”
“I hope you do,” said Bea.
Dorian turned back toward his pit.
He walked slowly.
Step by step.
The edge came closer.
He paused.
Then he climbed down into the soft sand.
It felt just as safe as before.
But something was different.
Dorian looked up at the circle of light.
He listened.
The garden whispered and hummed.
And somewhere above
Bzzzz…
Dorian did not hide.
He settled into the sand.
“Nice and quiet,” he said softly.
Then, after a moment
“And a little bit brave, too.”
The LettersLetter "Free Bedtime Stories Club" Team
Comments