Raindrops tap an irregular beat on my window, punctuating the rhythm of the wasp battering against the glass to escape. The fluttering of Lilliputian wings can’t break the barrier. She is crazy about freedom—a return to her world. She knows well that she can’t win with major force, but she can’t stop fighting. Life is everything. Sunlight bursting through gray clouds, the voices of cardinals and crickets, honeysuckle nectar in the hot glades.
She surrenders, tumbles to my desk.
I slip paper beneath the trembling body, raise the glass, and release her into the rain.
Surrender doesn’t always mean losing.