6.7.8...

She spent the whole damn summer waiting to get away from home.

Slow days. Cracked linoleum floors, free convenience store sodas at the end of a shift.

Ice melted on the ground.

Slow nights, fuzzy-hazy dream sequences, covers kicked off, loud music thumping outside into the wee hours.

Days that bled into weeks and still never went anywhere. It wasn’t monotonous--it was all very bright and loud and present.

Tie-dye party at a neighbor’s house.