Between the slated wooden shutters, a bee hums.
Andrew reaches for a tattered magazine, but
instead of rolling it into a nightstick
he curves it into a shy smile.
Gently, he ushers
the bee from the window, toward the door
like guiding the proverbial old lady across the street.
It flees, panicked, from room to room,
to the comfort of familiar light through glass,
and Andrew follows it.
Eventually, they will tire: the bee
panting on the solid ground of a window sill,
and Andrew mourning in a sigh, reaching
for a shroud of paper towel.
Inspired by Stephen King's Under the Dome.
Photo by Dominic
You don't have to answer here if you don't want to, but at least ask yourself: what's the cruelest thing you've ever done?