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We made our way slowly down the path that led to the stream, swaying
slightly, drunk on the sun, I suppose. It was a real summer's day. The
ait humming with heat whilst the trees beckoned us into their cool green
shade. When we reached the stream I put a bottle of cider into the water
to chill, both of us knowing that we'd drink it long before it had a
chance. This is where you want to be, there's nothing else but you and her
and how you use your time. Walking to parties whilst it's still light
outside. Peter was upset at first but now he's in the garden talking to
somebody Polish. Why don't we set up a tent and spend the night out there?
And we can pretend that we're somewhere foreign but we'll still be able to
use the fridge if we get hungry or too hot. This is where you want to
be...etc. This is where you want to be...etc. The room smells faintly of
sun tan lotion in the evening sunlight and when you take off your clothes
you're still wearing a small pale skin bikini. The sound od children
playing in the park comes from faraway and time slows down to the speed
of the specks of dust floating in the light of your window. Summer leaves
fall from Summer trees. Summer grazes fade on Summer knees. Summer nights
are slowly getting long, Summer's going so hurry soon it'll be gone. So we
went out to the park at midnight one last time. Past the abandoned
glasshouse stuffed full or drying palms, Past the bandstand down to the
boating lake. And we swam in the moonlight for what seemed like hours
until we couldn't swim anymore. And as we came out of the water we both
sensed a certain movement in the air and we both shivered slightly and ran
to collect our clothes. And as we walked home we could hear the leaves
curling and turning brown on the trees and the birds deciding where to go
for the winter. And the whole sound of Summer packing its bags as it
prepared to leave town. Oh but I want you to stay for a while, I don't
want to live in the cold.
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