It is still summer. Not fall.
Call me stubborn, but I refuse to forget. I choose to remember.
I remember riding the train, speeding past hills that glowed yellow from the sun.
I remember my brother, a brown speck against cool sands, watching the brave souls who jumped into the icy depths and decided not to drown.
I remember running back to the beginning, reminding the playground of my love, of my palms that dig in, my limbs that tangle with the structures, a body loose and languid, my laugh that tangos with the breeze.
I remember seeing spirits. That town is full of them. Sometimes, I conjured them, but other times they followed me. Showed up in restaurants and ate chips and smiled like it was all perfectly normal.
I remember lights flashing, music echoing, the night sparkling like a mirrorball. We were one entity. One wave of sound. One massive, magnanimous movement. Red blood cells and arteries bleeding out, yet somehow alive.
I remember thinking that maybe home isn’t where you are but where you choose to be.
it is still summer.
Call me stubborn, but I refuse to forget.
I choose to remember.
Posted in response to the challenge Fall: Writing.