Friday, July 14, 2017


Behind my eyelids I see reds, purples, yellows, and lime greens. My aunt always says that if you close your eyes while facing the sun, your mind paints pictures for you on the insides of your eyelids. I smell coconut SPF and hot mayo turkey sandwiches. The roof of my mouth is tacky and dry like a warm bedroom slipper.

The sounds ricochet off the surface of the lake; joyful screams and the deep power pull of motor boats. Bright green algae and soft, pale orange fish eggs lull about, pearlized by fresh spring waters. The insect buzz-hum is the backdrum of this hazy, windy, vacuous afternoon.

The high-pitched puppy yelps come echoing through the trees as I consider my naked toenails. The far-off train whistle announces the coal chugging down a Wednesday afternoon. Somewhere a clock hand clicks the next second of nothing in particular as I consider the ancient elastic of my mother's borrowed one-piece swimsuit.

The real rhythmic timing of this day comes from the consistent wake; fa lap, faaa lap. fa lap, fa lap. The waves greet the rocky shore with no news in particular except the days events on the wakeboards and Sea Biscuits.

It's time for The Dinner, come inside with a wet towel and a tattered book. Ska luff, ska luff, ska luff go the flip flops and stizzzzzzzzz go the steaks on the grill.

Wine glasses clink with maroon libations and soon the moon is out. Across the road the corn field sits proudly with knee high in July. Ska luff, ska luff, ska luff across the street with a flick! goes the Bic and for Nicotine delight.

The moon is pacing itself towards full and a distant firecracker pops. Auntie is sleeping and Mother is cleaning up the playing cards. Look back to the cozy big house and close eyes to observe the wind chimes as they ring up an ancient Oriental hummmmnnnnnn.

Look back at the corn and consider the night. 

Take a deep breath as fireflies take flight.

Good Night, good night, sleep tight.

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