they will see the apple, they are barefoot or almost. The grass swath they do not see it but they walk on a nest. They are under attack. The friend grabs the baby in her arms and ran toward the house, screaming, brother following behind. The father is in the kitchen, he looks at the clock, noon, he rushes outside. The mother leaves the barn. I recognize the urgency and yell, I run into them, I shouted questions. He poses in front of me, I lift the dress, four or five wasps flit still below. Tear the dress, shaking, after bites, do not panic, panic. The brother did nothing, he remains in the background, the friend is also stung and his face was very white. The night wasps attacking the girl still in her sleep that wakes up screaming in fear.
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