Summer’s Song

 

BlogBattle Sarah B Tea - sig

 

She ran barefoot in the grass, hair streaming behind her in strands of moonlit ribbons.

Her mother called her inside but she wouldn’t go.

She was searching for fireflies.

 

Last year, right before her father died, he pulled her aside and asked her to listen to the crickets. Summer’s song, he called them.

They had iced tea that night in late July, the ice melting, glass beading up with droplets of water in the humid heat.

The sun cast desperate rays through tree branches, glowing orange fingers reaching out for someone to hold them. But she didn’t. And they nestled in the bushes waiting for morning.

Fireflies danced around their heads, lighting up the porch, and her father beamed with them. Nature’s nightlights, he said.

They sipped sweet tea to a chorus of insects.

She traced a line down the side of her glass, peeking through her hair at her father. Will you be here to listen to the chirping and watch the blinking bugs tomorrow? she wondered.

Her father was dying.

She was old enough to know he would be leaving soon and young enough to ask him not to go.

He had laughed. She remembered that vividly because it startled her and the sweaty, cold glass slipped from her hand.

And it felt so good to cry. For the lost sweet tea that pooled near her toes and for her father who was being forced from the world he loved with a smile on his face.

 

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#Blogbattle is a weekly writing prompt for flash/short stories hosted by Rachael Ritchey – Join the fun every Tuesday

Read more wonderful stories and vote for your favorites here.

Week 67 Prompt: Tea
Genre: Drama

 

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17 thoughts on “Summer’s Song

  1. Pingback: #BlogBattle 67 “Tea” Entries & Voting | BlogBattle

  2. Wow! Sarah. I read the 99-word version at the Carrot Ranch and was blown away. This lengthier version adds so much to the story. I love the descriptive “ice melting and glass beading up”; and the poetry in this paragraph “The sun cast desperate rays through tree branches, glowing orange fingers reaching out for someone to hold them. But she didn’t. And they nestled in the bushes waiting for morning.”
    Oh go on, I can’t possibly quote it all! I love that she looked for the fireflies and that her father called them “Nature’s nightlights”. And I am so sorry that he is being forced from the world that he loves. It such a sad story, but told with beautiful imagery and much emotion. Well done.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Wow, you. Thank you so much for this, Norah. You’re too kind. It was a story I fell in love with and happened to fit both prompts so I expanded/tweaked it a bit. But I’m finding I do love these characters so perhaps I’ll work on it some more. Or add it to my collection of short (short) stories. Thanks. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: Blog Battle 68 “Menagerie” Entries & Voting | BlogBattle

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