WILD HONEY — IN THE GRASS, WHERE NO ONE REMEMBERS THE WORDS (1990?) An old barn stood on the hill. It had long since fallen out of use, yet for some reason it never disappeared. Every summer, someone claimed to have seen a woman walking through the tall grass. She never hurried—she simply crossed the field as though she knew it better than anyone else. After she was gone, the air carried the scent of honey, and a fine golden dust lingered on people's hands. Disclaimer: A work of fiction.
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