The day after he had a tooth pulled, Bear attended a funeral. Some girl he’d gone to high school with. He tried to remember if they’d ever spoke, but couldn’t. His mother made him go, she knew the girl’s mother, from the Church Social Committee.
He never liked churches, the ceilings were too high. They were too quiet and even whispers echoed.
While the priest went through his rituals, Bear noticed several people swatting, with their hands or hymnals, at the air. The air got thicker, and he realized it was a cloud of bees coming down from the rafters.