in the suburbs

Challenge #1 Sweet Summer Song: Pick a song that represents summer for you. Use the song as the title of your piece, and to inspire either a poem or a short story/micro fiction about summer. Feel free to use some of the song's lyrics in your piece as well. So what does summer feel like for you?

For the main James & Oneg Summer Writing Challenge Extravaganza, click here.

Every house is a brick stone copy of the one next to it. The street identical to the one across, behind, beside. The car make might change, the colour from black to grey to silver, but the maple trees out front remind you that everything is the same. Every summer a new bug comes and eats the leaves the same way. There is no distinction, exclusion, or fear of difference. Doors closed; curtains open to a made-up front room where no one ever sits. This is suburbia.

In the suburbs I, I learned to drive

And you told me we'd never survive

Grab your mother's keys, we're leaving.

My bicycle had gotten run over last month by some soccer mom’s van. She drove over it so fast that I had barely the chance to form a yell in my vocal cords. She also drove away so quickly and without any hesitation.

When I told my parents about it, my dad just flipped to the next page in the local newspaper, and without any hesitation either, told me “well next time don’t leave it where it shouldn’t be.” That was the end of that discussion.

My mom, sweet and naïve, pressed a twenty in my palm this morning quietly, hoping it would be helpful. Oh mom. Don’t you know bikes cost more these days? It was so pathetic that I couldn’t even be mad at her. It was obvious who controlled the spending in our house.

In my dreams we're still screaming

We're still screaming

I ended up riding on the back spokes of Trev’s dirt bike. He laughed about it, joking that if I was his girlfriend then I could sit in his lap, but I was obviously too hairy and dickish; he didn’t want it to be gay. I joked back though saying that he must be a ‘power bottom’ since he was making me stand behind him on the spokes. That earned me a hard shove. Which was still kind of gay in my opinion. I wasn’t afraid to say I was a top.

Riding through our small ass town still felt monotone. We’d blast old rock as the sun blasted us with its rays, bleaching everything with a blinding light. We’d talk about getting out, once we finished school. But we both knew that we barely passed junior year and didn’t have high hopes for our last one. Maybe we’d catch a ride with one of those cargo trucks, or just hitch from car to car until we reached somewhere that had meaning and life to it.

Summer was all about making plans and doing nothing about ‘em.

Everything would still look the same come September. The brick stone would still hold up too-quiet homes. The streets would still look that same, immaculate lawns and falling apart families. The front living rooms would sport plush armchairs and flowers would be displayed on the coffee table. The curtains would remain drawn to show normality.

(and) In my dreams we're still screaming

We're still screaming

We’re still screaming

The song I chose to represent summer is “In the Suburbs” by Arcade Fire. There’s something real special about this song, from the melody and vibe, to the lyrics and music video.