Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

slowly pushed the wooden door inward on its rusted track. The dark interior smelled of grease, old leather, and a strange, heavy sweetness that did not belong in an equipment shed.

Six blue plastic drums stood lined up against the back wall, each one sealed with a heavy white locking collar.

“They are unmarked,” David said, shining his small pocket flashlight continue reading …