Thursday, May 15, 2014

Nature Morte

Another 100 word story.

Didn't get to put up this story yesterday, was spending time with family from out of state before they left for the airport and didn't get back in time to give this the proper edit I felt it needed.  It was going to be something about Still Life painting, but then it transformed into something else about flowers, and then into bees.

I realized that living here for about 5 years, I know next to nothing about the neighbors around me.  No greetings/salutations, which is very awkward for someone like me who knew the neighbors (and at times wayyy too much to be comfortable) back home.  We had a family that was here for a bit, and we were pretty close with them, they eventually had to move since someone (we're thinking one of the neighborhood kids) found it funny to keep throwing rocks at their parked car on the driveway.

We've also been targeted before, finding the back window of our van smashed in, finding the big rock they used to break it sitting in the back of the van.  Nothing was stolen but we didn't feel safe, despite it being a perfectly good neighborhood (as compared to the ones in the Philippines, of course).

Not sure if I'm making any sense as it is about 2.25 a.m.  Going to stop blabbering and hit the hay.

Enjoy and good night.

*picture is originally from

04/16/2014 (Thursday)- Nature Morte

          There was a beehive growing just outside the front door of our house, little summer neighbors that’ve come to work for pollen and live in peace.

          Hello, how are you? they buzzed politely each morning.  We smiled and waved each time.  They were good neighbors, turning in early at night, never bothering our family or neighbors.

          I woke up yesterday morning to find their home broken, on the ground, rocks and bodies and honey scattered all about.  We buried them in the garden close to the flowers that they loved.

          I woke up today, back to neighbors who don’t greet.