The Moment Home Readings Buy the Book About The Moments

First Day of Summer, Redux

Would this summer be more fulfilling?

Drunk with the light that flooded the sky at four-thirty in the morning, he soaked in its richness. The sky was at first a pale blue and by mid-morning it became a deeper blue, and, finally, when the sunset, the light was lingering, high above, although the harbor was dark and the boats, making their way past the airport, seemed like so many busy acquatic fireflies.

He had met Viola the night before and now he was meeting Francine and, soon, Paula. Always outdoor meetings, at outdoor cafes, with crowds passing by. It felt like the set of a play, somehow, but the audience ignored them, they were part of the tableau.

Would any of these women invite him home, or take him up on his offer to leave town, to chase the luminosity of the summer skies, to embrace him, the summer light, the breezes?

That was the mystery of this summer, the first day that seemed like so many other summers. But, unlike spring with its heartache of rain and cold, its relentless two steps forward and three back, summer was here to stay. Until, of course, it came to a halting, chilly end.

Hopefully, he would accumulate more warmth and more tender exchanges before the first leaf turned.


No comments yet, why not leave one of your own?

Leave a Comment or Share Your Story

Please Sign In. Only community members can comment.

The Moment Book

Moments from the SMITH Community

Tomorrowland "Daisy, F3," my son Archer says as we pull into our parking spot. Disneyland’s about to open and we've arrived, just the two of us, our last hoorah before school starts. *** The alarm goes off and I pull the pillow tightly over my head. My husband, Hal, offers to wake the kids so I roll over, fall back asleep until Archer's voice wakes me, this time for good. "Hi, Mommy. It's …
Line Break
With Both Hands Whenever I think of my mother, my mind flips to this story. Not to the whole story, but right to the middle of it, the worst moments of it. For me, that's where the story always starts. My mother was beating the hell out of me. The first few blows seemed to come from every direction as I grabbed my nightgown and pulled it over my head, not …
Line Break
Reasons to be Thankful By Robert Israel They scraped me off the street, my bicycle in a heap nearby, and ever so gingerly placed me on the gurney. A crowd of curious onlookers watched intently, thankful they were not being loaded onto the ambulance. The nurses at the hospital were calming as nurses are wont to be, and administered an intravenous tube of morphine, and soon everything around me became fuzzy and numb, and the …
Line Break
Read More Community Moments →
SMITH Magazine

SMITH Magazine is a home for storytelling.
We believe everyone has a story, and everyone
should have a place to tell it.
We're the creators and home of the
Six-Word Memoir® project.