Pollen Count
Standing on the porch, she looks back at the footprints left behind in the green silt. Cat’s paws, men’s boots, women’s dress shoes. It’s all decorated with the little wormy things that’ve been coming off the trees like rats of a sinking ship.
“Ugh,” she says.
“What?”
“It’s so gross. It’s like the trees are basically having sex all over us.”
“No it’s not,” I say. “Please don’t say that.”
Oops you did it again. (Double posted.)
Whoops! Thanks for the heads-up. I dunno why I didn’t see that when I checked to see how it looked.
Um, did what again? Great post.
I hate those wormy things.
That’s cute! I never thought of it like that. It kinda makes me feel at one with nature and stuff. Like the trees love us and just want to give us their love-dust the same way they give us all that oxygen we crave so much…