Yesterday on my front steps there was a box from you. The mailman delivered it. It was cardboard and fairly big. When I lifted it inside, through our screen door, it seemed weightless. But when I opened it a hive of bees fell out and broke open on the ground and started a ruckus in our living room. I am still digging dead bees out of our couch cushions and from inside the VCR. Why did you send me a box of bees? I appreciate the gesture, but I am, I guess, confused.

Hoping someday you can clarify all this for me,

J. A. Tyler

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Read JAT's story, "This Will Be the One about the Birds in the Man."

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