My Brain is a Beehive

The other night I looked at myself in the mirror and was surprised to see that my forehead was still intact. I expected it to have exploded by now, from all the pressure against my brain. sending shards of my skin flying through the air like shrapnel. And yet, there it was. And I realized that my seamless complexion revealed nothing of the torrent of bees in my brain. Swarming it as if it were their nest. My placid voice did not portray Continue reading