Spirographs

All the ladies are wearing black skirts with floral patterns on them. It's been like that for the past two days. The one walking up the stairs in front of me today had an abstract motif. It was in purples and whites and the edges were hard not round like regular flowers. Its pattern was like the result of an especially odd wheel you picked out then drew from spirograph.

Something sweet got spilled on the government courtyard walk near where I eat my lunch. Numerous bees were walking around in circles licking it up with their bee appendages. Don't bees clumped together in a bunch seem cuddly? But you know better. You're hearing a buzzing sound even if you're too far away for the sound to actually be reaching your ears.

It's bright out still. September. But if I want to get up in the morning for a walk before work, it's too dark. Besides, it's better I should pay attention to the news for a change, isn't it? Jacob's friend's dad was in it. He was the guy who when the truck that crashed into the sleeping lady's bedroom of the condos by the 401 came down from his unit to find his neighbours in a state of shock.

I saw a monarch butterfly. I saw a yellow butterfly. One time when Larry and I were arguing and I was in the kitchen and he was in the living room I saw a black and white woodpecker with red on its crown in the lilac bush outside the window and I wanted to tell him but if I moved or called to him I would scare it away so I didn't even though we were arguing and I wanted to so much so there would be something nice and sweet between us. I kept looking at it, its beak nudging into the lilac branches and it kept staying. It didn't leave for a very long time; maybe a minute or two.