Passed/Past

Excerpt for my book. It’s on sale right now for 99 cents. Thanks for reading.


Passed

The days pass, there is a garden, there is a kiddie pool, there is a tall metal slide, there are bikes. There are parties and Old Maid. There are faked deaths on the living room rug. There are forts made of blankets, boxes and overturned furniture. There is art on the steps to the basement. There is our neighbor, Mrs. Thomas. There are bees in her yard that she keeps.

Mrs. Thomas invites us over for drinks and play while she chats with my mother. Sometimes I imagine the more-than-average number of bees are falling into my glass of soda. They land on the edge of my glass and claim my sticky beverage. I wait until they fly away again before I take another drink. I become anxious as I see puckers in the dark liquid. It’s a drowning bee, struggling, trapped by the sugary fluid prison. Its wings weighted down by the tempting sweet and now dying a horrible, humiliating death. My mother assures me it’s just ice.

I’m not convinced.

I try to avoid the puckers as they lunge toward my lips. I wait for the stings. For the mouthful of barbs and flesh-engorging pinch of the bee or bees. Between sips, I watch the air.

The sun is white, bright and soft. There are thousands of particles bumbling and floating in the trees. There are dandelion puffs, grass clippings, pollen, bees, insects, dust, fairies and little bits of earth-bound angel breath, each humming in a small sphere of light. The light catchers and carriers; the light that carries each element on the warm, swirling wind.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s