Under the​ ​pale Texas sky, she bent to pick bluebonnets, but instead,​ she ​laid down​, ​and waving​ ​her arms,​ ​made​ ​blue angels. Her bonnet fluttered in the wind​ ​up over her dreamy​ ​itchy​ ​eyes,​ ​while fire ants crawled up her skirt, mandibles raised, waiting​,​ as if​ ​for the orchestrated upbeat to​ ​commence​ ​biting.