How August Could Have Gone at Bodega Mag

There are so many bees in the wall that the outlets are leaking honey. Ants come looking for sweetness, marking black streaks like sesame seeds up the molding. When I stand near, I can hear the buzzing, a deep vibration like the hum of a car radio out on the street. I can feel the wall’s warmth in the room. We stay in the warm house forever. If it were up to me, that’s where we’d be now: together, in the golden light, sunflowers on our dining room table, the calendar never changing, the clock stopped.

Read the rest of my late-summer flash piece over at Bodega Mag. 

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