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First published January 30, 2018
“You needs to be more like a bumbly bee, Charlie. Ain’t you never seent how them bees’ll burrow theyself into so many flowers that they very color change? They go from being yellow and black and common-looking to wearing balls of gold all o’er every square inch of theyselves. And there ain’t no mistaking neither that once them bees is wearing those robes of gold, they’s close to Jesus as they can get, they’s happy as anything living can be. They’ll sit on the edge of that flower just soaking it all in afore they starts buzzing their wings and celebrating that sound they makes. That’s where you need to be if you gonna learn how to work these fields; you need to quit thinking so much and listen to that buzz.”
Only trouble with that is all you end up doing is building that same old life back again. You jus' a actor moving on to another performance. You might get a different group of characters, a different set, but in the end you's starring in the same old stinking play.
One morning you gonna wake up and wonder who was the lucky ones, them that went down with the train and was snuffed out quick, or them that lived on and was having to get their train wreck played out slow over years and years.
Time moves different when something you ain't 'specting to happen goes 'head on and happens anyhow. I seent where time goes from moving at the reg'lar pace to when it slides 'long on greased locomotive rails. I also seent where it slows right on down, like it's fighting its way through a big invisible jug of molasses. (p. 11)