In the Glow of a Porch-light

In the Glow of a Porch-light

Soon, the relentless bugs of the summer season will have eaten us to our core, but for these few moments we are free, able to let all responsibilities go, all worries slide off, and all forced façades of fabricated maturity drop away as the faux rain falls down from the deep night sky. Eerie gold illumination floods our deserted side street, our haven, our teenage playground.

 Icy cold pressure slams into my back, water from a garden hose, frigid against the early August air. My lips part into a smile as I jump out of the way, muscles tense, my bare feet slapping the rough pavement as I circle around your sister. I choke the hose with my sunburnt hands before easing it out of her sweaty palms. My wrist flicks in a slight arc upwards, causing the water to rain down on us, shimmering like priceless diamonds in the glow of a porch light in a different world.

            Tonight we are in our own world where touch is a pool of water. Vision is the gleaming golden reflections floating in water. Sound is our blended laughter bouncing off ghost homes packed much too close together. Smell is a happily adhesive creature, blades of fragrant freshly cut grass clinging desperately to our bare legs, and taste is the dribbles of watermelon juice running down tanned red cheeks, quickly lapped up by swiping tongues.  Pattering, a man running mutters that we’re nothing but immature teenagers acting like toddlers. I frown, your sister sticks her tongue out, and you spray him.

 

 

 

Author's Note

Memory-Writing piece from Creative Writing class. Jeez, I love that class. Didn't feel like editing my info at the top, X'ed out my last name. Deal with it.
Reviews, Questions, Comments? Appreciated.