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Astrid Beeswax – Angelic – Devious – A Woman Reckoning

Nature’s perfume is the right industry to be in when bathing goes out of fashion, like every other decent grooming practice. Flowers have covered the pungent spectrum of human odors since Adam and Eve. Unfortunately, the Bible doesn’t say much about florists but considering all the pregnancies required to populate the earth, someone must have figured out a way to combat the assault of smells upon the olfactory organs of expectant mothers.

I am Astrid Beeswax, and welcome to my flower shoppe, The Beez Kneez, on the corner of Inconsiderate and Self Absorbed. According to the city, the cross streets are Mountain View Drive and 186th Avenue, but my choices accurately represent what has happened to the soul of Doilley Dale City.

Astrid Beeswax by Lizzy D. Hill


My no-longer-favorite chocolate shop stands at Cheap and Profitable, while the local elementary school continues to sabotage their students near the cross-section of Convenience and Distraction. We’re failing our taste buds and our children. Our taste buds can recover, but our children? What kind of a poverty sentence has been placed upon them? Whoever’s in charge calls it COVID-19, as if the sure path into the cycle of abuse, addiction, and disease is as benign as a freckle.

You may wonder why I stay in this city that’s sick with belching consumerism and unfettered social failings. Sometimes I do, too. But then, every Friday at 3:00 PM, the ignoramus that Hollywood smiled and bought his way to power and influence over our city walks in like he pays my rent. His name is Justin, but I call him Harold. He thinks it’s a cute mistake because he’s pegged me as a silly woman who likes flowers and dresses up as if I stepped out of a 50’s dress catalog. Harold is right; I do like flowers, and I have an affinity for the ’50s era of feminine adornment. But I’m not silly. I’m conducting a social experiment.

And Harold is my first test subject.

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