The sun is streaky highlighter orange and lavender as it sets for the night, lightning bugs popping up every once in a while. They sit thigh-to-thigh on a low stone wall, backs to the sun looking out over a field of wild flowers and long grass. Laughter bubbles up and falls over the field, softly echoing, sometimes followed by a choked sob.
Her skirt is riding up and his jeans are patchy, and they’re whispering their worst qualities and insecurities to each other in a haze of blueberry dream rolled into a blueberry swisher; this is in strict contrast to how funny negativity seems at the moment. Mosquitos are out in droves due to the thick, humid air, biting her legs and arms.
She feels weighted down by everything she hasn’t done and everything she needs to do, but sometimes she thinks that maybe the weight will lift. It does sometimes. For now she’ll continue to find her way to a three-foot-tall stone wall a county over with those friends that can provide a little help carrying the weight.
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