That One Summer

September 15, 2010
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It feels as if I am hypnotized by the beautiful flickering flame of that candle. The red wax drip delicately along itself, unaware that it is about to become something nobody would recognize...

It's six in the morning and the sun is clawing its way up to the canvas of a sky, splashed with a million different shades of purple, red, blue, yellow, orange; looking as if it is painted by a great but unknown artist who is waiting for someone to notice his work.

The rays of the rising sun pierce through the tiny yet magnificent little dewdrops that were formed overnight but would only last until the sun rises, and the dewdrops break up the little rays of light, showing a light display like no other.

Sometimes I would sit on the wooden bench in the park, moving my finger along the engraved wordings in the brown oak. Some are sweet little hearts and initials, some, on the other hand, are words and phrases you would have sworn to never say.

A warm breeze brushes against my cheek lovingly, and disappears into nothingness. I look up and see people. People I would see in the cars that drive past my window every day. People who never did bother about a friendly nod or smile. People whose faces I do not recognize. People who would have been much different than they are now, in dolphin cut shorts and t shirts I could never afford, in a few hours. I see a beautiful adolescent and her white standard poodle, jogging down the lane, and an elderly woman whom I have never seen before sitting on the bench on the other side of the park, breaking up bread crumbs to feed the pigeons...

Lunch was lovely omelettes and some cold juice, on the beach right behind our backyard. I can feel the soft rug beneath us, keeping my fussy mother from getting sticky with sand. The beach is alive now, with families and picnics, girls in bright Roxy bikinis and couples on the edge of the water. I excuse myself and trot down the dunes, until I find a nice warm little spot near the water to sink my feet into. The sand feels coarse and wet beneath my feet, the water cold but smooth between my fingers. I spread the little towel I brought across the sand, and lay onto the soft fibers...

A sudden chill went across my slowly awakening body. I sit up stiffly, and looked around. The sky is now draped with thick, cotton like clouds that are painted with every possible colour, I cannot help but lay back down, so as to ease my hurting neck. I can see a poorly shaped mouse, with its snout dented this way and that; a thin wispy cloud with fibers so soft, like a feather from an angel's wing; a castle so majestic and magnificent, like the ones only found in fairy tales and folklore... I push myself up with my elbows, and squint at the distant sun, now sliding its way back to wherever it is it came from. A salty wet breeze blows through my tangled, damp and sandy hair, and sending a chill down my sweaty back. I stand up and stretch while the wind hurries me home. I pick up and shake off my towel, pack it away under my arm and start my way back to my lovely seaside home. I let my feet sink in the dry soft sand, now cooler as it loosed its heat from the sun. Eventually, I come to the part of the beach that is overgrown by green lush beach grass. I have never liked the feeling of damp grass and prickly roots, so I search around for my flip flops.

Now, barefoot and hot from the trek up the dunes, only did I realized that I have left my Jimmy Choos on that spot where the breeze felt especially warm, the air surprisingly fresh, and the sand particularly soft...





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jessi said...
Sept. 19, 2010 at 10:12 am
i love this! great use of imagry. :)
 
Macx14 said...
Sept. 18, 2010 at 3:35 pm
Captivating imagery, sounds like a great start to me!
 
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