I searched for you in empty rooms, and thought that I could taste you in the dust particles hovering in the last rays of sunlight, thought I could feel you as the weak shine of the fading day.
The shadows are becoming more pronounced in this house. The furniture is covered in white sheets, the doorways in semi-opaque plastic. The carpets are freshly shampooed and and the windows are finally cleaned of their grime, though the souls of a few unfortunate bumblebees are still trapped in between the panes. I remember their angry buzzing in late summer, battering their furious, fuzzy bodies against the glass until exhaustion took them over. I don't remember why we didn't help them; perhaps we were too preoccupied with our own internal buzzing, a thousand angry bees inside our heads.
The shadows are becoming more pronounced in this house. The furniture is covered in white sheets, the doorways in semi-opaque plastic. The carpets are freshly shampooed and and the windows are finally cleaned of their grime, though the souls of a few unfortunate bumblebees are still trapped in between the panes. I remember their angry buzzing in late summer, battering their furious, fuzzy bodies against the glass until exhaustion took them over. I don't remember why we didn't help them; perhaps we were too preoccupied with our own internal buzzing, a thousand angry bees inside our heads.
hungery13ear:
petsound:
yes. i do.