Bebeep, bebeep, bebeep, bebeep!

I awake to the electronic sound of an iPod’s alarm. I reach into the darkness and, finding my iPod, quickly shut off the alarm. I check the time: 5:30AM; it is about time to get up and start the day. However, I cannot find the will to lift myself up. Thus, I lazily turn over to shut my eyes for a few more minutes; I plan to get out of bed after a brief rest in my warm blankets.

Bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz!

I awake to an annoying, mad buzzing. I reach into the darkness and, finding my iPod, quickly shut off the alar-

It is already off. The time reads 6:00AM.

I had actually planned to get out of the house by 6:10AM in order to catch my buses. I am running late – breakfast will be a luxury I will have to purchase on my way to school.

Immediately, I spring forth from my bed as though it was of hot coals and hurriedly put on my glasses.

Bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz!

I am suddenly looking around, calm as death, for the source of the buzzing. Seeing a wasp near the window of my bedroom, I quickly turn around to my desk, pick up my brother’s “Popular Science” magazine, roll it up, take a few strides to the window (still calm as death on its way to reap a soul), then

SMACK

I missed.

SMACK SMACK

The wasp is hovering in the blinds and so I cannot see its exact

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

location – oh, it is on the carpet.

Looking at it now, I can clearly see that it is still alive, perhaps barely. It lies on the ground before me, its little legs twitching like a lunatic’s. Perhaps it is seeing the last rays of life through its disgusting compound eyes (wait, scratch out disgusting – replace with REVOLTING – sorry, no, that is not correct either – putrid? No, just different I suppose), perhaps it is in unimaginably excruciating pain. Probably. As it lies there, on the ground, the quintessentially quivering wasp invokes a feeling of pity from within my cold, dead heart (ha, just kidding – it is very much warm and alive). Did it really deserve this fate? Indeed, it was what had awoken me from my slumber which I had re-entered by mistake. However, I did have to protect both myself and my brother from its wrath.

That was the joke; this bug could have been a minor nuisance at most.

But, could a primitive animal like the wasp feel wrathful? Could it be filled with hate and loathing like humans? Could it act on such emotions? Does a wasp have emotions at all, considering its tiny size? Perhaps it may not be large enough to house the complex hormone-secreting organs that, for example, a human has, in which case I would doubt that this wasp that lies twitching before me feels any sort of emotion. Perhaps this thing does not even feel pain – unlikely, considering how it, even now, is trying to escape its predicament, despite its condi

SMACK

and for good measure

SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK

It is still moving. Enraged, I pour all of my hate for life into one furious

SMACK

and now it is dead, for it has stopped moving.

Something goes off in my brain. As calm as a tranquil vista of a valley with tiny birds singing their songs and a small stream trickling merrily along, I step back to my desk to check the time.

6:10AM.

I immediately dress, retrieve my backpack from the corner of the bedroom, take my iPod, shove my earphones into my ears, and race out of the house without having a bite to eat and without having brushed my teeth; it takes nearly fifteen minutes to make it to the bus stop, after which only two more minutes will remain before the bus arrives to pick up and drop off travellers. I will be forced to sprint on an empty stomach and with a filthy mouth to make it to the bus stop on time.

I think "The Wasp" is a terrible terrible terrible name. You ruined the whole storyline before I even started reading it.

I hope that it's a working title.

I don't know what else to title it.

Murder?
To Kill a Wasp?

"To Kill A Wasp" is even worse, that gives away even more of the storyline.

It seems that when the wasp begins buzzing, you are trying to have the reader share your surprise at it not being the alarm and the subsequent journey of discovery in finding out what the sound is. This is ruined by the title however, the reader is just thinking "Okay it's a wasp, I know already, this journey of discovery is not being enjoyed by me."

I think "The Wasp" would be a more appropriate title if the wasp was, for example, never actually found. Like if you could hear it, but couldn't see the source. You imagined it must be a wasp though, and grow panicked because you're deathly allergic. Then you become frozen in fear imagining all the wasps that could be anywhere, the buzzing becoming increasingly louder, the threat of death possibly moments away. You consider bolting for the door, but think about them chasing you, and knowing you can't outrun them. After twenty minutes of being painfully stationary, you finally talk yourself into having the willpower to move ever-so-slowly as you slide off the bed and creep for the door. Your leg glides over your bed sheet, and you brace yourself for the feeling of the sting, the last sensation you will ever experience in this world. You imagine what anaphylactic shock is going to be like. You can't see your foot yet as it's still under the sheet, but you swear you can feel the wasps crawling over your skin.

You know, something like that, where the title gives you something to look forward to, rather than doing the opposite and giving you nothing to look forward to. Since your story is designed to be more interesting if you don't know what is making the buzzing sound to start with, I don't think saying what is making the buzzing sound right in the title is in the best interests of your story.

Name is fine. The core of the story is in the philosophical matter (and subsequent lack thereof) involved in its murder.

I'm not sure the world would miss wasps if they all suddenly died off. If they do have feelings, I hope I hurt them just now. Fuck wasps.

Fuck mosquitos too, while we're at it.

k, except the core of the story isn't the entire story, much of it is pointless and thus poorly written simply because of the title.

There are much better titles, if you're suggesting otherwise then to you sir, I say good day.

This story is as much about the wasp as, say, that one Poe story was about amontillado. The title really isn't much directly important, I mean.

k, except that story was extremely compelling, and had an appropriate title which didn't spoil the storyline in the slightest.

Okay. Assume that I made up the title for the sake of having a thread title with no forethought on the impact of the story. I am dumb.
Now that we've established that, what do you think of the actual "story?"

(I put "story" in quotation marks because I am confused as to whether or not you really think it is so horrible that it should not be called a story.)

You see, even something like


Would be a better title, even if you left the question mark there. Considering that this is the actual focus of the piece, the idea which is being explored at the climax, something along these lines would be more appropriate. It could also relate to it being morning, or waking up, or the feelings (or lack thereof) involved, or what is actually happening (he reflects for a moment, so A Moment's Reflection? lawl), or using Tux's example, you could use any sort of item involved in the storyline that doesn't give anything away.

You said you made the title with no forethought, but that is certainly a bad practice. The title defines the entire work. It is the first thing that everyone reads, and the only way in which anyone will refer to it. It is of paramount importance to put an equal amount of thought into the title as you do into the rest of the piece. It is an integral, defining part of the whole, after all.

As for the story itself, it's okay. It brings up a point that's of some interest.