The happy place

I dreamt last night that my wife had bought these pan pizzas, you know the type you put in the microwave and cook for two minutes

And that on these pizzas were the flavour of bees

But all of the bees — there were lots of them — were digested by the honey

Like bees stuck inside pollenated figs

They tasted only of pan pizza and honey

But I knew that there were bees there

I expected to be stung, but I wasn’t

I didn’t finish my slice

Because in the dream, I’d lost my appetite.

When I woke up, I still had the memory of feeling being stung on the tongue