Vibrations from the amp lazing beside us match the ones emitting from the giggles brewing in our guts.
The sun plays with us, bouncing off pink and brown shoulders—teasing, mocking, flirting with us. We smile back at her, with eyes cast down.
Sweat dances under our breasts and within the rivers of stretch marks behind our knees. It will not go away, like algae which festers between the soft breeze.
Melting ice cream leaps and spreads its sweet drops towards daffodils, as though announcing a duel for the bees who are floating in and out of waves in the air.
This is what it feels like to bathe in the grass; you and nature; the perfect pair.
About the Creator
LIFE MAZI
A RELIC OF GROWTH
Gossamer
"Murray! Wake up!" He loved that period between waking and dreaming. To him, it was like entering another dimension; more of a dreamscape than dreaming itself. There was an otherness to it that he wanted to grasp and yet deeply respected the fact that it could never be his totally. This is what gossamer was; flighty and light, a wisp of smokiness, an idea suggested but not fully revealed, a slit in cloth, a copse in the wood.
By Rachel Deeming7 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.