Honey

A conversation between myself and a neighborhood man this drizzly afternoon, as we rode our bicycles past the honey store on the corner of my block and he saw me whispering to the blue-eyed cat that sat in the store window, surrounded by colorful jars of golden honey with hand-printed labels:

Him: Are you looking for something?

Me: No, nothing. Just looking.

Him: That’s honey.

Me: Yes, it is honey.

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