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Sun, shining through glass
Seeing you with open eyes
Now, a moonless night
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Crisp white sheets lay low
Barely covering his hips
Beauty, hidden there
Posted in answer to a Writing_Readers challenge for this pic:
“Tommy, wake up. Tommy, wake…up!” the young boy’s voice whispered loudly.
It had been a good dream, a very good dream and Billy Anderson had to go and ruin it. “What do you want?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with both fists. “It’s the first day of summer and Ma said I could sleep in, just this once.”
“Exactly, Tommy,” Billy emphasized the name. “The first day of summer and you’re still lying in bed.”
The mattress squeaked beneath him as twelve year-old Thomas Buford sat up, untangling himself from the thin summer blanket. He pulled the pillow from behind and onto his lap, resting his elbows on the soft, down cushion. Hunching forward he eyed his best friend who managed to be leaning through the half-open bedroom window. Tommy could imagine the feet below, dangling just above the ground.
“So, it’s the first day of summer. What’s the rush? I was having a good dream.”
“You can dream all you want, tonight, Tommy. Right now we have a tree to claim.” The rush to act was evident in the boy’s voice. “You know the rules…first to tree has Summer Rights. We’re not losing it again this year!”
Tommy’s eyes widened, and pillow and blanket flew across the bed as he scrambled to get his feet on the floor. How could he sleep in…how could he forget? It was all that stupid dream’s fault. The dream and Cathy Wilkerson. Cathy Wilkerson in his dream, teasing him with that smile of hers, and ice cream cones. Stupid dream!
Dungarees were quickly tugged over Spiderman underwear and yesterday’s dirty t-shirt was pulled over his head. Feet slipped sockless into worn-out sneakers that were quickly tied, only for the purpose of not tripping over the laces.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked, already running toward the window. “Let’s go!”
Billy Anderson dropped to the ground beneath him, grimacing as he heard the crunch of one of Mrs. Buford’s hollyhocks snap under his shoe. But, that was the price he’d have to pay for glory, and before he was even clear of the space Tommy was already through the window, landing with a thump on the same ruined stalk of flowers. He didn’t give them a thought.
“Go, go!” Tommy yelled, sprinting across the wide field to the spreading oak beyond. They dodged a half-dozen cows and countless cow patties, narrowly missing some. But, it wouldn’t matter if they stepped ankle deep into the dung, because Victory was theirs.
That was until thirteen year-old Cathy Wilkerson with the boobs she had grown over spring, in her cropped blouse and tight summer shorts, stepped out from behind the massive trunk, armed with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
“Sorry, boys. Better luck next year,” she said haughtily when Billy and Tommy skidded to a stop at her feet.
“NO!”
