Sunset Sunrise (#4, week 29)

Groundbreaking, part 3

My hands were no longer hands. They were pulsing, heavy-weight objects at my side – blood pumping through my veins, sending white blood cells to fend off any microbe, infection, or bacteria that goes unseen by the naked eye. Lodias was a distant memory because the residual detritus on these “objects” for the last forty minutes consumed my thoughts. They needed to be cleaned.

From Santa Monica Blvd., two blocks from my apartment, I turned right on to Harper. One of the many streets lined with Jacaranda trees. The tree’s light purple, trumpet like flowers, short body and voluminous mouth, littered the ground, no longer useful after the bloom. I did my best to avoid the dizzying flight pattern of the circling bees who rescued the flower’s last bit of nectar. The irony was not lost: the ground being the bee’s continuum to rise and one man’s existential demise. It’s all connected.