Sunday morning, there are fresh bed sheets on the master bed. My brother and i would roll around the bed creating as many wrinkles as possible until it was time for church. We would all put on our clothes and make our way towards the street facing my current bedroom. The traffic director would blow his whistle and at the sound of that silvery note everyone would make their way across the street.
There are giant doors in the giant lobby that leads us out into the icy crisp weather. We are in New Jersey or New York. There is people inside seeking expensive refuge from the snow that's pressing down upon the city. My cousin and i are bundled up and it is getting warm. I beg for my parents to let me take off my jacket.
The great tree outside balboa park is wet after the pouring rain. I am carrying my great instrument as i peer into an isle full of colorful floor tiles. As i sit with the cello on my lap i peer out and gaze at the towering lamppost and breathe in the fresh air.
Bible study is over and the twins are yelling instructions for another game of hide and seek. I dash up into my room and make a grab at the bag of sunchips lying on my bed. Crumbs spill when my hand gives and involuntary twitch and the moonlight from my open window streams across my flower patterned bed. The window is open and summer is nearing an end. The air has a touch of edgy attitude.
School is almost over and the blinding sun bounces off the pale and glossy concrete. Everyone is clad in shorts and t-shirts anticipating the season filled with sunshine, ocean, and watermelon. Freedom lingers and creates a tension free atmosphere.
...
Arizona
Colorado
Home
Music
Rain
Harry Potter
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1 comment:
We. Are. Almost. Done. Hang in there, my friend.
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