Sunday, November 27

Draft Eleven

*if you haven't read this post, I am posting an unpublished draft from all random points in time every day until I run out*

Title: No title.
June 22, 2010

If I could paint a picture for you for a minute, of a warm summer night, maybe when you were young.  The air was heavy and smelled like sweet grass.  It was just after dusk and although it's still a blue sky you can see the moon and you notice maybe some of the street lights coming on.  You're out on the front lawn or riding your bike.. something like that.  Maybe it's even quiet, except for the hum of an outdoor air conditioner, some birds chatting or perhaps that lone car driving past really slow with their club music turned up and you half listen to it trail off the farther it gets.  It's really easy, now that you're an adult, remembering nights like that - weather is great for those kinds of memories.  They can happen over and over again.  Then amongst all the other sounds you hear the distinct sound of someone from the next house jumping off a diving board in the backyard and splashing in their pool.  You can't see it so you think those motherfuckers have a pool back there??  Another jump.  Another big splash.  They do, they totally have a fucking pool.  Why haven't I ever heard them in their pool until now?  What exactly IS back there?

The hedges are really high between you so there's not much you can see but a huge pink rosebush growing over onto your side, which smells really sweet and looks pretty.  You pick a few of them as you lean into the fence of greenery hoping for a little peek.  The idea of how awesome a pool would be on a night like that hadn't even come to mind until you heard the mystery neighbors having fun... completely out of sight.  Pick a few roses and you head inside where it's cool, maybe making your screen door spring shut behind you, and you put them in a tall glass with water on the kitchen table.   They even look nice there.

Some days you're the neighbors with the pool, some days you're just listening to things and other stranger days you are the hedge right between the two.


Free Blog Template by June Lily