My heart is pounding.. just as it always is around this time of night.. I feel like... a tiny little bee in a tiny little room with one huge window.. and I just keep smacking into it over and over.. because all I see is what is on the other side. there is a small opening.. but I have to wait for it to open up more so that it is obvious enough for me to zoom through. I guess even a bee starts to get tired after days of repeatedly hitting a window.. they either take a break and get back at it the next day.. or they shrivel up and die on the window sill from either insanity or hemorrhage. And I suppose it would be just a bee's luck to finally fly through and fly into a spider web. Maybe not though.. maybe that little be could hit the window pane in such a way that it shatters! and they break through into brilliant shades of orange and yellow and ultraviolet purples... and they are free to take shelter in the velvet-lined petals of the flower in which they had been focusing on for so long. Perhaps the nectar would be sweeter.. and the scent much more therapeutic than ever before. If its flower is not yet picked by more available hands, that is.
If only the bee did not need the security of the tiny house to begin with.