😂 I love all seasons, besides Winter. I can’t stand the darkness, the cold, the way my glasses fog up when I enter any building from the outside. It’s just plain annoying.
“Birthdays suck!”, she shouted at the broken air conditioner. It was 115 degrees outside, which was now typical for summer in Yuma, AZ.
“I’m in hell!”
Just weeks after transferring here, her dad was re-deployed overseas, making this the third birthday he would miss. Her mom took a cleaning job to make ends meet.
So, here she was, alone. New town. Zero friends. Not even school to distract her.
“I’m out of here!”, she declared. With no money and no place to go, she left to celebrate her 16th birthday
Mountains had seen it all before and were unmoved by the antics of these ephemeral creatures who believed their cameo appearances in walk-on parts lasted a lifetime.
What did these tiny curiosities know of lifetimes, eras, and aeons? Or of true Ages - molten coalescence, barren rock, snowball, undersea, animal-infested?
Trees understood. Mountains had respect for trees.
They watched the biped make its leap from the ledge.
They watched it splash, thrash and become still, floating on the dark, icy water below.
Neither one knew what they wanted to do. So they sat on the curb, drinking fruit punch Capris Sun. Staring at the house across the street with a swimming pool.
They wax the curb and take turns ollying, grinding, and falling.
Laughing and clapping whether the landing was successful or not. Sweating and bleeding and falling and getting back up again. Playing with the neighbors dog that keeps breaking free from its yard. Deciding to go inside to play Super Mario Bros 3.
Thank you. I haven't written much. But the prompt spoke to me. Brought back some good memories. The prompt combined with a word count made finding the right word a challenge. Like figuring out a puzzle.
I mean yeah, when it’s 30+ and you’re literally melting then summer ain’t it, but I still like that more than winter though. One huge thing for me is that I don’t do any winter sports but a bunch of summer sports and I can’t do them during the winter 😭
In the US southeast, summer means hot temperatures, high humidity, mosquitos, hats, and sweat.
But summer in the South also means thunderstorms and hiking trails and waterfalls to cool off in. Summer is birds of red and yellow and blue. Summer is fresh fruit and vegetables from the garden in your backyard. Summer is sprinklers and swimming pools and floating down the Chattahoochee without a care in the world.
"Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language" -Henry James.
they dont make summer in england anymore. its just like 6 months of mostly rain and then six months of mostly cold dark rain with maybe a bit of sleet and ice.
It’s been a long time since I was in school, but every time June rolls around I can’t help but feel the illusory release of summer break.
The longer days remind me of later play dates and more time at the park. The heat on my skin brings me back to running (and sometimes rolling) through grassy hills.
But I’m an adult, and all that summer really means to me now is sweating on the walk from my car to the over air-conditioned office in my stuffy work clothes.
It was the summer of 1985 when there was no air. Skin melting, boils appearing, no air conditioner. It was even too hot to get in the lake. We would stare out the window trying to hide from the rays of the sun, using papers to fan ourselves. Hoping, wishing for a slight breeze. Nothing. You couldn’t even hear the cries for help or gasps for air. This was the year that nearly 2 million people perished. A year those of us who survived never speak about. So much grief.
The children splashed each other in the shallows. His wife pretended to read something on her Kindle in the lounger beside him. She was biting her lip. He squeezed her hand and assured her, “Hey, everything is okay.”
Eyes questioning, she met his gaze, “You’re sure we are safe here?”
“Absolutely. I promise,” he replied with a false confidence—hoping she couldn't sense the fear behind his words.
All he could do now was pray their new, forever summer home (located somewhere off the coast of Spain) was, in fact, safe.
Days of trekking along a little unimproved road in my ‘69 convertible down to a secret water hole, blasting classic rock music with some of my buddies, with lots of beer, hot dogs and a portable grill in the back of it will soon come.
Not today, though. It is still wintertime, and if I were to drive her now, the salt on the road would ruin the exterior.
However, I couldn’t resist getting in her and firing up her engine inside the garage.
Hi, from Australia and my 38 degree C day. Thanks for the prompt Miguel!
—-
Summer is snags on the barbie, thongs and a bevvie in your palm, youth radio counting down tunes, beaches packed with the Union Jack, sweat and seatbelt burns, new year same wounds, marching the streets demanding rights for the owners of this land, watching the pale and melanoma prone celebrate the day this sunburnt country was stolen, their cheers oppressive like this unrelenting heat and ever present fear of flames that whip through scrub, cared for and managed for thousands of years before terra nullius. Not a date to celebrate.
Probably not what you would consider cold…I’ve never seen snow- closest I’ve seen was some clumps of ice on the grass on a frosty morning in July. Rarely gets below 0 where I live. It does snow in other parts of the country though.
The drive to the Moors is always gorgeous. That was particularly so last night, sun beaming down as Kings Of Leon blares out of car speakers.
The evening, once the camp was pitched and BBQ finished, was equally spectacular, fading light slipping a tangerine filter over everything in sight.
But the morning, with the cool air, the dew and the piping-hot coffee my only companions, that's when I breath out. I exist, hinged in this time during January's darkest, coldest moments.
As a vigorous winter hater myself, I TOTALLY AGREE.
😂 I love all seasons, besides Winter. I can’t stand the darkness, the cold, the way my glasses fog up when I enter any building from the outside. It’s just plain annoying.
It feels like you never have enough time in winter.
PROMPT: SUMMER
THE PLANS
We’d been eagerly waiting for Summer to arrive.
It was our favourite time of the year.
When we could all be together, doing things we only did when Summer was here.
We had so much planned, and so much we were looking forward to.
But then we heard her parents were getting divorced, which meant our American cousin wouldn’t be visiting for a while.
And all our plans were ruined… 😎
“Birthdays suck!”, she shouted at the broken air conditioner. It was 115 degrees outside, which was now typical for summer in Yuma, AZ.
“I’m in hell!”
Just weeks after transferring here, her dad was re-deployed overseas, making this the third birthday he would miss. Her mom took a cleaning job to make ends meet.
So, here she was, alone. New town. Zero friends. Not even school to distract her.
“I’m out of here!”, she declared. With no money and no place to go, she left to celebrate her 16th birthday
Summer - 90 words
Mountains had seen it all before and were unmoved by the antics of these ephemeral creatures who believed their cameo appearances in walk-on parts lasted a lifetime.
What did these tiny curiosities know of lifetimes, eras, and aeons? Or of true Ages - molten coalescence, barren rock, snowball, undersea, animal-infested?
Trees understood. Mountains had respect for trees.
They watched the biped make its leap from the ledge.
They watched it splash, thrash and become still, floating on the dark, icy water below.
They kept their lake cold, even in High Summer.
Terrific!
This is a tectonic thriller.
This is awesome Matthew. Love it.
Both men looked up to the circling chopper.
‘Are they looking for us?’ He was still donning the full firefighter gear, though he didn’t have to.
‘No. I must show you something.’ He looked at his own clothing. No longer a priest but still dressed like one.
They stopped in front of a ruined building.
‘Here…’ he stopped and brushed off a dusty plank.
The firefighter read them and nodded.
Finally, he could bring him in, after several attempts in several summers.
The plank says: ‘A brave firie rests here.’
"What do you want to do today?"
Neither one knew what they wanted to do. So they sat on the curb, drinking fruit punch Capris Sun. Staring at the house across the street with a swimming pool.
They wax the curb and take turns ollying, grinding, and falling.
Laughing and clapping whether the landing was successful or not. Sweating and bleeding and falling and getting back up again. Playing with the neighbors dog that keeps breaking free from its yard. Deciding to go inside to play Super Mario Bros 3.
Thanks for joining in! Such a sweet and nostalgic story :)
Thank you. I haven't written much. But the prompt spoke to me. Brought back some good memories. The prompt combined with a word count made finding the right word a challenge. Like figuring out a puzzle.
The summer here is killing so i am usually a vigorous summer hater but the perks of summer you mentioned may have balanced something out.
I mean yeah, when it’s 30+ and you’re literally melting then summer ain’t it, but I still like that more than winter though. One huge thing for me is that I don’t do any winter sports but a bunch of summer sports and I can’t do them during the winter 😭
I love summer sports too, they are way more enjoyable than the winter ones but i go for a run everyday and heat is my enemy😭
In the US southeast, summer means hot temperatures, high humidity, mosquitos, hats, and sweat.
But summer in the South also means thunderstorms and hiking trails and waterfalls to cool off in. Summer is birds of red and yellow and blue. Summer is fresh fruit and vegetables from the garden in your backyard. Summer is sprinklers and swimming pools and floating down the Chattahoochee without a care in the world.
"Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language" -Henry James.
Amen.
Having been to Charleston, SC many times in my childhood, this checks out. Well, unless a hurricane comes through and ruins your plans.
they dont make summer in england anymore. its just like 6 months of mostly rain and then six months of mostly cold dark rain with maybe a bit of sleet and ice.
I'm so sorry. ;)
Honestly I sometimes wish I had that haha. The English weather was always my vibe.
It’s been a long time since I was in school, but every time June rolls around I can’t help but feel the illusory release of summer break.
The longer days remind me of later play dates and more time at the park. The heat on my skin brings me back to running (and sometimes rolling) through grassy hills.
But I’m an adult, and all that summer really means to me now is sweating on the walk from my car to the over air-conditioned office in my stuffy work clothes.
There's no law that says an adult can't roll down a grassy hill now and then. Try it, it will sweeten the rest of your grownup day! 🤸♀️
You’re so right Jeanine! I think I will
Have fun! 😉
adulting be adulting 😭
adulting.
SUMMER
A stranger stopped me on the street.
"Lia, don't you recognize me? Ashley. From the Waterford Summer Theater. I played Gigi. Remember?"
Ten years ago. Amazing!
"I loved that show," she continued. "We all had so much fun together."
The other chorus girls hated her, I remembered. Had she really been unaware of their jealousy?
"That summer was such a magical time."
I didn't know what to say.
"Are you still acting?"
"No," I said. An awkward pause.
"It was nice to see you again!" She left without saying goodbye.
The self absorbance of some people is mind boggling
that is lovely!
It was the summer of 1985 when there was no air. Skin melting, boils appearing, no air conditioner. It was even too hot to get in the lake. We would stare out the window trying to hide from the rays of the sun, using papers to fan ourselves. Hoping, wishing for a slight breeze. Nothing. You couldn’t even hear the cries for help or gasps for air. This was the year that nearly 2 million people perished. A year those of us who survived never speak about. So much grief.
Writing mine shortly, but I agree-Summer's sister is awful!
Winter Haters Club
lol
🌞
The children splashed each other in the shallows. His wife pretended to read something on her Kindle in the lounger beside him. She was biting her lip. He squeezed her hand and assured her, “Hey, everything is okay.”
Eyes questioning, she met his gaze, “You’re sure we are safe here?”
“Absolutely. I promise,” he replied with a false confidence—hoping she couldn't sense the fear behind his words.
All he could do now was pray their new, forever summer home (located somewhere off the coast of Spain) was, in fact, safe.
Summer. I can almost feel it.
Days of trekking along a little unimproved road in my ‘69 convertible down to a secret water hole, blasting classic rock music with some of my buddies, with lots of beer, hot dogs and a portable grill in the back of it will soon come.
Not today, though. It is still wintertime, and if I were to drive her now, the salt on the road would ruin the exterior.
However, I couldn’t resist getting in her and firing up her engine inside the garage.
Hi, from Australia and my 38 degree C day. Thanks for the prompt Miguel!
—-
Summer is snags on the barbie, thongs and a bevvie in your palm, youth radio counting down tunes, beaches packed with the Union Jack, sweat and seatbelt burns, new year same wounds, marching the streets demanding rights for the owners of this land, watching the pale and melanoma prone celebrate the day this sunburnt country was stolen, their cheers oppressive like this unrelenting heat and ever present fear of flames that whip through scrub, cared for and managed for thousands of years before terra nullius. Not a date to celebrate.
😭 Do you get any cold days in Aus?
Probably not what you would consider cold…I’ve never seen snow- closest I’ve seen was some clumps of ice on the grass on a frosty morning in July. Rarely gets below 0 where I live. It does snow in other parts of the country though.
This is the moment I come for.
The drive to the Moors is always gorgeous. That was particularly so last night, sun beaming down as Kings Of Leon blares out of car speakers.
The evening, once the camp was pitched and BBQ finished, was equally spectacular, fading light slipping a tangerine filter over everything in sight.
But the morning, with the cool air, the dew and the piping-hot coffee my only companions, that's when I breath out. I exist, hinged in this time during January's darkest, coldest moments.
whenever Im scrolling past and I see your name I think its me.
Kings of Leon is choice long, winding drive music.
Find Me and Pyro high on road trip playlists for me!
And I’m bumping Youth and Young Manhood all the way through!