Friday, June 3, 2011

the secret life of bees

By now my nose was running along with my eyes. I was sniffling, wiping my cheeks, unable to stop my mouth from spewing out every horrible thing I could drum up about myself and once I was finished...well, if she could love me then, if she could say, Lily you are still a special flower planted on the earth, then maybe I would be able to look in the mirrors in her parlor and see the river glistening in my eyes, flowing on despite the things that had died in it.

"But all of that, that's nothing," I said. I was on my feet needing to go someplace, but there was no place to go. We were on an island. A floating blue island in a pink house where I spilled my guts and then hoped I wasn't tossed out to sea to wait for my punishment.


Probably one or two moments in your whole life you will hear a dark whispering spirit, a voice coming from the center of things. It will have blades for lips and will not stop until it speaks the one secret thing at the heart of it all. Kneeling on the floor, unable to stop shuddering, I heard it plainly. It said, You are unlovable, Lily Owens. Unlovable. Who could love you? Who in this world could ever love you?

I sank farther down, onto my heels, hardly aware of myself mumbling the words out loud. "I am unlovable." When I looked up, I saw dust particles floating in the lamplight, August standing looking down at me. I thought she might try to pull me to my feet, but instead she knelt beside me and brushed the hair back from my face.

"You listen to me now, there is love all around you."

No comments:

Post a Comment