Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

walked toward the office, leaving me standing by the porch.

I walked back inside the empty bottling shed and picked up a wooden spoon, dipping it deep into the open vat.

“Something in this batch does not smell like clover, Arthur,” I murmured to the empty room.

I lifted the spoon high, watching the golden liquid run off the wooden spoon continue reading …