It would be so easy to give up. It is after 10pm and it would be so easy to slip out of my two day old rhythm of writing and in between the white sheets that I tucked tightly around the bed this morning.
When I got home after work I found the first fat bee struggling in the middle of the living room floor. I know there will be more, like there were this time last year. Or perhaps it is just the same determined bee, coming back again and again to be rescued.
Before even closing the front door I got the dustpan and brush and swept up the relentless bee, heavy with sleep and spring, and threw him out into the sunshine, where he landed on his feet.
I don’t know how long he had been there before I found him or how close he was to giving up. This time he didn’t. And fortunately neither did I. Somehow I managed to sweep myself up and throw myself out into the sunshine and maybe I will still be there tomorrow morning on my feet.
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