Texas Summer Prose

Stream of thought prose on a hot, Texas summer evening.

The fire-ant pain was delayed. It writhed like vines up my leg, blooming with intensity at each second, yet somehow soothing. I rid them with one swipe of my foot on my pant leg, almost regretful for doing so.

I peered up to where the path lay, just beyond the gate, where the deer came to drink. "This pain, it's not so bad," I said to the wind, smirking. She caressed my cheek in response then slithered away along the dribbling creek, tickling leaves as she passed.

I listened behind, for the door's creak, for my lover to say, "Are you okay, my dear?" I'd only nod in response from afar yet, it never came. I stroked Ella's head and breathed deeply of all that was around me, wondering if the wind would return and kiss me again.

"I'll get out of your hair for a bit, okay?" I said, hoping she'd sense the pain behind my eyes. "Sure honey," she replied with nonchalance, her precious attention upon her favorite series. I left, in the waning heat of that day, to spend my time in the silent company of my kindred lonely.

Author's Note

Comments gladly accepted.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Having lived in south Texas for several years, experiencing excruciating heat and fire ant bites, I easily inserted my self into the scene. Only a glimpse of a few moments in time, you do it with poetic flair.

[Esteban Luis Soto]

Thank you!