Ants in my leg hair.
My name is Canterbury. I can’t remember who it was that nicknamed me that. I guess they thought it was funny. I guess it kind of is.
Summer will be coming to an end soon. It’s 730 in the evening and it’s cooler outside than it is in my apartment. The sun is out of sight, but the sky is still bright with its glow.
I’ve gone for a walk. I needed to get out of the apartment. My kitchen smells of stale beer, but the dishes have been washed and are drying in the rack. My breath smells of stale beer as well, but I have chewing gum in my pocket.
I used to be beautiful. But when I was, I didn’t know it back then. I have trouble sleeping these days. My head and my heart race with in me. Back and forth, bumping into each other all day, and into the night. 2am. 3am. 4. Then the sun comes again.
At first, I blamed the pillows. Then, I thought it might be the sheets. Or the bed itself. So I bought a double-thick inflatable mattress and when I can’t sleep in my regular bed, I’ll go out to the living room and sleep on the inflated bed. The living room began to lose its magic too. Now I have an inflatable bed in almost every room and I am an insomniac nomad within my own apartment.
Later, when the rain comes, I’ll have forgotten how much I enjoy listening to it fall and splash as it gathers where it will. It will bring bittersweet emotion with its bittersweet fragrant of freshly wet streets and sidewalks.
As the rain carries on through the fall and winter, my mood will be melancholy. I won’t remember the spring. But I will always love and miss my summer.