Day Ending

The lights have begun to shine.
I imagine a young woman, walking to get a ride  home,  looking around at all the other people, maybe even looking for someone to love. I imagine her wishing she had friends to be with at the moment.
Beneath my flickering light, as I sit and contemplate, I  wonder if she'll ever find him.
She must miss home. She's not the kind to be in a big town alone.
She must be trudging through the sea of people, trying to catch the seven o'clock bus.
I imagine her hope. I imagine the numerous dreams she must have during the day. In some of them, she must be on the bus home, looking around to see who's getting on, where they're sitting and if they're good-looking enough. I imagine how she must feel, to look up at someone who's asking to sit next to her and the way her eyes light up.
She has found him.

But alas, 'tis only a dream.

Keeping Bees

For someone who claims to be a bee keeper, I'm terrible with bees in their literal sense. What are bees like? They sting to protect their everything and die in the process. Much like ourselves, but we don't die. Mostly we end up hurting ourselves. 

In my quest to understand the world around me by mere observations with the naked eye and undressing mind, let my findings be the bees and I their keeper.

Please don't sting.