Summers In The Car
I'm just this guy, you know?
To expand on that, I am also the following...
- A former ficly member who is 38 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)
- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch
- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes
- Always too hard on myself
Summer. It was hot. It was sticky. It was gross. It was also the happiest time of my life. Despite the fact that I was currently melting into the faux leather seats of my father's land yacht of an automobile as it puttered down a forested road in what felt like the middle of nowhere, I couldn't have been a happier puddle in that scorching hot seat.
The radio didn't work anymore, though it was on my dad's ever lengthening list of "things to get around to" so I hummed my favorite selection of sappy 80s pop love songs to myself.
I was in a mood, that was certain. Not just a general "good" mood but a very particular "once a year around this part of the summer" mood. I was going to see Pam. Pam used to just be the girl my age I hung out with at the dinky motel up north because our families happened to always vacation at the same place, at the same time of year without fail. Now, however, she had become my reason for drudging through the rest of the year.
I could tell already, this year was going to be special.
Prequels
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Sequels
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Comments (2 so far!)
Storykeeper
Love "melting into the faux leather seats of my father's land yacht of an automobile."
- #1836 Posted 8 years ago
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- Published 8 years ago.
- Story viewed 6 times and rated 0 times.
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ElshaHawk LoA
Or is it?
I hope that it is full of surprises, twists, turns, happiness and disappointment the way that these kinds of summer meetings always end up being when you put too many assumptions and hopes in to them.