I heard the sound of kids whooping and squealing, some few hundred yards west. I remember doing that on long ago summer evenings as sultry as this. I remember the hot gray pavement under my feet, and the pools of dim light dropping from the street lamps, and the voices vanishing in the pressing sky. It was always fun for a while, and then it always made me sad, and I never knew why. I still don't.
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- rejectomorph (
flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind
Heat and Transience
I heard the sound of kids whooping and squealing, some few hundred yards west. I remember doing that on long ago summer evenings as sultry as this. I remember the hot gray pavement under my feet, and the pools of dim light dropping from the street lamps, and the voices vanishing in the pressing sky. It was always fun for a while, and then it always made me sad, and I never knew why. I still don't.
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