Our wisdom flows so sweet.
The night is hot and muggy. A window is left open. The building pants like a dog. NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT. A small golden bee alights on the windowsill. It has no sting. Not yet. INITIATE THE ARISTAEUS PROCEDURE. The bee creeps gently across bedclothes. It touches skin and then lips; its wings flick in the warm rush of air. It descends. BEES, AS HONEY-MAKERS, ARE AN IMAGE OF WISDOM
Do you know the San people, sweetling? They say a bee carried Mantis over the water before there was land. It died for that, sweetling, but before it did, it left Mantis with a seed that would blossom into the first human.
Everything is true, sweetling.
Taste, and - WITNESS - see.