blackandwhitedreamer
The news blared from the television screen, from the radio, stood out in bold-face capital letters in newspaper headlines. It was shouted across busy streets and murmured about in cafes. There was no escaping it. It was the story of the century.
Clean air.
White cotton.
A summer breeze.
Summer is so simple, so carefree.
Winter is dark and complicated and tosses your emotions back and forth with complete and utter abandon, from yuletide cheer to frozen depression.
Summer is simple.
Even when things shouldn't be straightforward -
Somehow, in summer, they are.
The basketball bounces off the hoop every time. It never goes in. Sneakers squeak on the gym floor as I dribble and run again and again. I'm too short for this. I know it. I will never, ever, ever make the team.
I catch the ball as it bounces. Turn around. Run in for the shot. Jump again. Higher, this time.
She runs up the steps and almost falls, so boundless is her enthusiasm. She doesn't even notice and just keeps going, taking them too at a time. She is always in a hurry to go somewhere. She is always eager to take the next step towards her future.
The dentist leans closer. I grimace at the screech of plastic gloves against freshly scrubbed enamel. When he moves back I try without success to get the gritty toothpaste taste out of my mouth as he announces I am free to go on with another six months of chewing, smiling, and brushing.
There was total silence. No one stirred as they stood on the hilltop, staring down at their enemies' camp. It was nearly dawn. There time was limited. They had to attack before anyone woke up and spotted them.
The young general stood at the front of his army, trembling. He pressed his lips together.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't give the order.
He stood, blazing and blindingly radiant in front of her. His eyes glowed. A man born again. A lost cause given new hope. A phoenix raised from the ashes.
I walk onto the stage, fighting the shaking in my hands. Squinting at the bright lights. My socks slip on the wooden floor. I take several deep breaths, hoping the judges don't notice how nervous I am as I take my place, darting quick glances at the girls on either side of me to see if they're any more ready than I am. The music starts. I smile, and begin.
The dark wood was smooth beneath her nervous hands and her feet twisted over the rich carpet. She didn't belong in this room, so formal and polished, with these people in their neat, dark suits. She plucked at strings on the fraying edges of her borrowed jacket, just praying to get out of there.
I stood beneath the pouring rain, watching the droplets tremble along my skin and over my outstretched fingers. Thunder rolled deeply in the distance, but I didn't move. I was frozen to the spot, my feet sending roots into the grass; I wanted to settle down and grow here. I was stone. But I was more alive than if I had been able to move.
load more entries