On the View From the Sixth Floor

My cubicle is on the building’s sixth floor.

The building is glass. Blue glass. Windows run from floor to ceiling.

At a guess, I’m sixty-five, maybe seventy feet off the ground. Could be a little higher; the ground floor isn’t quite level with the ground.

Birds fly by. Clouds look amazing from up here. I have a view that goes for several sheppeys. Shopping centers. Office buildings. The train tracks. Rolling hills. Lots of green.

Sometimes, bees fly into the window here on the sixth floor.


I didn’t realize that bees could fly this high.

I’ll be typing, and I’ll hear a bang!

A bee has flown into the window. It hovers, a few inches from the glass. And then, it angles in, and bang!

Into the window again.

This happens, three or four times.

Then the bee flies away.

Seventy feet off the ground.

What’s a bee looking for, seventy feet off the ground?

At least the clouds are billowy. They’re calming, relaxing.

I love the sixth floor.

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