Α Summer Story

Α Summer Story

A Story by Marina
"

Greek summer is a thing.

"

The existentialist futility that characterizes summertime should become a scientific research subject. Between the urban slump, the heat and the cicadas, one can detect an exceptional tendency for self-pity, stoical reminiscence, and heavy thoughts that concern future and that -under no circumstances- help the thinker feel better for themselves.

That was the exact mindset of the tenant on the 2nd floor, apartment 1, one summer Thursday afternoon, time 15.43, as she was sitting on the balcony. Right in front of her there was a massive tree, the leaves of which were just a few centimeters away from her head.


Literally nature's touch here.


The heat was unbearable and the tenant herself had her hair tied in a messy hairdo with a brown hair-clip from ALL FOR 1e shop; in her hand there was a cold glass with lemon ice tea. From time to time she would rattle the glass just to listen to the way the ice cubes broke the oppressive summer silence.


I can’t possibly be the only one awake right now.


One wouldn’t say that the tenant of apartment 1 was thinking something specific. Rather, it seemed that she was submerged in a trance, with her thoughts running like a wild river, rendering her completely motionless. While her mind was feverishly working, her eyes had turned to the part that the bigger branch of the tree was connecting to its trunk, thus creating a beautiful curve. She noticed two sparrows on the brunch and a pigeon two branches above, which had turned its head so that it could look at her.


Glad to know I’m not the only one awake.


The silence was broken by the enticing sound of cutlery when they land devotedly on a plate; a signal that the meal has been eaten and the approaching, desirable afternoon nap is about to follow. The sound seemed to originate from the building next to hers, on the third or fourth floor.


The number one soundtrack for Greek summer standards, now and forever.


The repeated tick-tick-tick of the cutlery brought a tremendous feeling of relief and instant relaxation. It made you realize that there is life and that you are not alone.


Some housewife with short hair and an airy, white nightgown will probably be gathering the dishes from the table to put them in the sink. Because no other human being would actually be doing this during this time of the hour, besides them.

Sometimes I wonder if the term ‘housewife’ itself has been created by such flow of images perceived in people’s thoughts, if nothing else.

 

A subtle smell of fried zucchinis approached her nose cunningly.


Surely they must have made tzatziki. You can’t make fried zucchinis unless tzatziki is on the table too.


The sudden flinch of the tablecloth made the pigeon startle and flutter away, making the girl twitch, resulting in some lemon ice tea now running down her calf. She could now feel it running down her foot. All this happened instantly, yet the girl had already raised her eyes and she was now looking at the balcony of the third floor, from the building on her left, at the yellow tablecloth patterned with flowers being flinched forcefully, while breadcrumbs were jumping out of it. She could even discern the left side of the housewife’s body.


Like I said. On point.


The nightgown she was wearing, because she was actually wearing one, was green -not white- wide and seemingly airy. After she had stopped flinching the tablecloth, she grabbed the broom and started sweeping the balcony. The sound of a broom while it was caressing the stone balcony floor gave out a soothing tone, probably because of the repetitive hsss-hssss-hsss.


Greek summer soundtrack vol.2


Someone coughed from the floor above her. She could also now hear the sound one makes when they take out a rolling paper to roll a cigarette and the rumpling of plastic paper that perhaps contained the last cigarette filter.

The girl’s building was between two others, so she couldn’t really see any other tenants, besides the sides from some of their balconies. This way she also felt that she couldn’t be seen either.


Summer in the city is truly quite interesting from an observer’s point of view.


She could now hear the flipping of a newspaper from the building on her right, accompanied by the low mumble of a radio.


Who would’ve thought…summer afternoons are in fact lively.


If someone were to zoom out of this scene, they would see 3 buildings, one close to each other, with many of their tenants sitting in their balconies. That precise moment, a girl from the building in between, who was holding a glass, got up from the chair and disappeared inside the house.

© 2017 Marina


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Amazing! You almost seem like a nature's part itself! Good Luck :)

Posted 2 Years Ago


Summer in the city. Hot and sticky.
I like this. Like the life in the building.
How we wonder how other people live, while we live ourselves. What's the background to this story.

Posted 2 Years Ago


Marina

2 Years Ago

It's from one late afternoon a few days ago, when I was chilling in the balcony. So basically, true .. read more
Paul Bell

2 Years Ago

Was there alcohol involved here.
Marina

2 Years Ago

No just lemon ice tea!

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Added on June 14, 2017
Last Updated on June 14, 2017

Author

Marina
Marina

My mind's palace



About
Too many lives to live-too little time. We are not made of stars-we are made of stories. more..

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