A tidbit of a story acknowledging the coming of age of us all. They are often melancholy times, staying with us as we grow into adulthood and remember — “oh yeah.” We remind ourselves about the summers, the people we met, and the things we learned even though our parents tried to shield us from them. This short story follows Gail on a visit to her grandparents’ country store in the Texas panhandle in the early ’60’s where she meets Audrey. Her summer with Audrey haunts Gail, and she learns about ambiguity, irony, and the ruse of appearances. The time was magical, simple, and complicated at the same time. Families didn’t have the conveniences of technology or the comforts of air conditioning and microwave ovens, but somehow there were other things to delight in: homemade cornbread, a promised soda in the heat of the afternoon, a new book of paper dolls, a little dog who did the same trick each time he was asked, the predictability of a grandfather stirring his pipe. This story of summer is ambiguous also, dark and haunting, but also threaded with childhood memories: the smell of red dirt and Sulphur filled clouds, unrelenting heat, and the bawdy arrogance of a violent storm. Two young girls living in the same summer, but each going a different way when August ends. $0.99 on Kindle.
