【Honey】

Day 1
27/05/17

     She looked up to that grand tree, naked arms reaching towards the sun—always oblivious to the growth hanging from its strongest limb. A peculiar buzzing mass of grey twisted around itself, swaying to the rhythm of the grass sea breaking past the horizon. This home had such high traffic, insects fought the wind to force themselves inside, frantic in entry, bouncing off the paper surface with considerable frequency. Surely there must be something behind that unappealing outside, unattractive in its messy exterior, clung to another entity without even a shred of apology. Adjusting her pale blue blouse, she watched a moment more—inspecting how the racing flecks of gold moved in angular patters, irregular and without cause aside from the air itself.

     There much be a secret, diamond beneath that rough texture—perhaps a portal to something beauteous beyond imagination. Thongs found their way to the earthen floor, toes flexed between the weeds as they took a breath of freedom. It’s far, from the petite girl’s worms eye view—though without a sense of fear to keep her tied, and curiosity to cure the worries of bruises, she rationalized it as no more than a little climb. It couldn’t be higher than father’s shoulders, assuring their little mind with fallacies of the sort.

     Those pudgy little fingers fit well within the bark’s grooves, nails untended enough to maintain a suitable grip. Little toes fit the same bill, though positions were uncomfortable, not wishing to soil their top—it was cute, she knew that fact all too well. The beginning of branches new to outreach were steps ripe for the picking, saps discouraging in how sticky they made this one’s soles. Though in time they had arrived—wet with the tree’s secretions, now home to an ant or two, those seeking the sweet liquid, and caught up in the crossfire. There was no fear of plummeting—though she could hardly see her shoes so far below, lost amongst emerald blades, hearing fitted with the noise of abundant cicadas and their obnoxious song. The objective was within reach, only a cautious shimmy and pluck away—surely the miniature beasts so furiously zooming about won’t be an issue, too small to cause any damage. It’s not as if they could bite, or dare I say sting, no?

     Weakness in construction made a piece easy to snap and crack—rather coconut-like, considerably simpler without that troublesome shell. Parallel to this leg of the tree, hands clamped to nature’s paper mache crafts, she focused enough to forget about the dozens of needles pressing deep into her skin, and the beasts mimicking flies in how they dropped afterward. In two halves, she managed to remove them, shifting back to a far more comfortable position—the gold within was mesmerizing, the shapes inside equally gorgeous in how perfectly they were arranged. The candy seeped outwards, dripping onto the clothes she intended to protect, the place of origin gifting a golden rain onto the green below. Panic consumed the air, pain gripping the nerves—yet the mind was calm, distracted in organic beauty whom nullified each concern and instinct.

     She’ll come down soon—before dinner or dusk, whichever is first. The consequences will be of the instinctive sort, delayed through the absentmindedness of peculiar youth.

     Fortunately, honey can speed the healing of wounds and lessen inflammation—I suppose it’s a fair trade, bitter-sweet.