Pressure …

We smoked them ’til their blood ran warm as the honey calmly sedated our nerves like oozing caramel melting on simmering tongues that spoke only of melodious things as it slithered down throbbing throats meant to turn and close like switch blades on lies, only to open harmoniously within the cadence of wings beating to sifting winds from the West where they belonged in fields of gold with the shimmering Sun setting behind their hives nestled within swaying chartreuse and bronze-kissed grain.

“Look,” he pointed to the Queen, nestled center-stage amongst the carcasses of drunken Drones.

Excitedly, she clasped her palms, “Ohhhh! My God! I never …” Each woke abruptly, sending the Queen into a frenzy and the rest of them into an uproar in the sky like a tornado spun with chaos and confusion. They had lost their rhythm in the meltdown.

Scolding her, yet lightly amused, “You frightened her, Liz.”

“What now?”

“We wait.”


“Until you get a grip.”

Still drunk from curiosity, she slowly walked down the edge of the hill toward another hive in the corner of the yard that housed the landing pad for a super highway of bees flowing in and out like a well-oiled hypnotic machine that sounded like the low roar of humming fans beating for the dance of life beyond the scope of even our very own understanding. Yes. One hive. Alone. Recognized this. And kept keeping on, despite it all.

On the corner of a concrete slab, lay a sealed jar of honey, upside down, pregnant with potential, leaking, as if to signify that time was running out; not simply for the millisecond of time she’d spend with his family and him, but also for all concepts, beings, dreams and micro & macro worlds yet to be discovered in the history of time as we understood it.

Etched in her mind, she recalled the scene that afternoon as the pressure built to the point of no return three years into the future in her apartment, alone, at dusk. As she rounded the corner in the kitchen, she stopped full stop; the sealed honey jar was upside down again, pregnant and ready to burst forth over the cliff that stood as the final sting in the last dance within the cycle of life, only inches away, leaking the three tablespoons left to scour the sides within as gravity took over again, reminding her of yet another moment that had begun once more as the Earth shifted its axis and the Sun set beyond a new point far-off from where she once knew West to be.

Xoxo, Lizzy

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