The boards creak beneath the weight of my feet. The puppy squeaks. A breeze falls on my shoulders. I take a seat.
The sun is hotter than the day before, beating down in stillness. Veiled by mist from a cloud, I feel relief.
I keep my eyes closed, burning from bug spray. Leave the bee alone! Nature cries. Do not bother the flies. I will think twice next time.
I hear a rebellious bullfrog sing a song of gratitude. Thank you, Miss, he sings his croak. For sending flies to this old bloke!