Monday, 20 August 2012

The hottest day

Perhaps the hottest day of the year, perhaps time to lash the wicker basket to his bike and cycle to the lake.

We breathe in barbeque smoke, sweat, cut grass, and pickle juice; we breathe the lavender oil which soothes the itching from our bites.

Patches of water in the lake are warm, like stepping into desert quicksand. Tendrils of cold current lap and coil round our feet.

I float on my back and look for familiar faces in the clouds, but the sky blinks a huge blue eye back at me and has nothing to say.

Scratching my skin until it is red and swollen, scratch till amber beads to the surface like resin oozing from the bark of a tree.

We look to one another and we are happy that we’re here.

I’m so glad we left, I say, the words a shiny red apple rolling down the grassy bank.

The boys grin; the sun pads round the edge of the trees like a tiger blithely stepping out from behind the rock and standing askance in our presence.

Everything is roiling orange flames.

The sun bounces off Ben’s hair and we are drenched with gold.

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