we ourselves flash and yearn

suburban summer nights

It’s weird, considering that I really, truly hated this town growing up, how improbably nice it seems sometimes; especially this summer, alone in the house with the grandmother, air conditioner turned off because it’s not too hot, and the fan oscillating around my hot little room; soft, whirr. The bathroom window’s open, and the muslin curtain ruffles with the wind. You can see fireflies on the back porch, and behind, the crab-apple tree dropping flowers.