small town summers
sipping wine coolers by the lake in the shade, making out by the water’s edge close to midnight, nowhere to go and nowhere to be. late drives through town in a fresh july air so thick you feel like you can breathe the best and worst at once. fast food signs along the highway route and belting out songs till your throat hurts and you feel more free. toes in backyard pools, bodies in backyard pools, mosquitoes near the ankles, and tall trees towering overhead, a green so lush you want to eat it. cerulean skies when the sun sets, purple skies when the sun sets. lazy strolls into town, a quiet so quiet, you have to be at peace, at least here, at least in this moment, at least for now. these are the small town summers.
Lauren Suval studied print journalism and psychology at Hofstra University, and she is a writer based in New York. Her work has been featured on Psych Central, Thought Catalog, Catapult Community, and other online publications. Lauren's e-book “Coping With Life’s Clutter” and her latest book, “The Art Of Nostalgia,” a collection of personal essays, can both be found on Amazon. She loves to be followed on Twitter @LaurenSuval and on Facebook @LaurenSuvalWriting.