The Underbrush

In June, the flies buzzed. constantly. though in this noise grew comfort, consistency. the droning sound progressed into more of a lull, soothing her to sleep, making it near impossible to sleep without it. It wasn't always such a droning noise, after she got used to it. Though in its absence, albeit a rare absence, uncertainty and fear of the unknown crept in.

In July, the flies still buzzed, even more so. though she hardly noticed them anymore. they seemed to be part of her now, they were just always there. moments of peace when they stopped felt worse than when they were present, at least the droning was consistent. she knew what to expect with the buzzing, it was always there, no worries of when it's going to begin or falter again.

Please give me feedback and criticism on how to improve!!