A Journal Entry

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I wish I understood what the sky was asking as the sun hovered over the hills - a blood orange in a lavender pool. Darkness tried to sulk it’s way in, but headlights, heatwaves, and echos of laughter kept it firmly in the fists of July.

I took a moment to breathe it all in - to feel the dry heat, the stickiness of palms, the cells of my skin learning to be brown. 

I was moving down Highway 55 going nowhere in particular. The windows were cranked down and the wind grasped at my untamed hair. Everything smelled of nostalgia- the same bitterness, the same sweetness, the very same strangeness of last summer.

Teenagers drove by, frantically kissing at every stop light. There is something peculiar and delicious about being in love and understanding nothing all the same. 

The orange of sunset reflected boldly on the pond near the side of the road. As the wind ran it’s fingers through gently, the water faded to rose and the bank seemed to tremble at the lightness of it all. The whole evening was light.

Sunlight, thin air, the apparent lack of anything. The feelings in moments like this are incomparable. I thought to last summer, I thought to last night, I thought to the inescapable heat of tomorrow. 

It is on nights like this when I can feel the colors of evening sink into my skin that I know somewhere out there there is something to be found - somewhere out there, there is teenage love that lasts, and rose-petaled shores that await cold toes. On nights like this, I stop my car in empty parking lots, in empty fields. On nights like this I am empty of expectation and I smile at the small things.

Because in the summer, the whole world is open to me. The whole world is a gaping mouth with lips that were born to inhale the particles of dust that made today. Summer answers it’s own questions, even after the blood orange has been peeled and it’s shell laid across the hills. And I just live within it.

Created: Jul 19, 2012

Tags: story, fiction, free-verse, prose

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