Red leather, faded tile, exposed worn brick and small chandeliers turn the room glamorous and comfortable. Red flowers simply dropped into small cups of water, I wish I didn’t feel quite so comfortable.
My velvet is worn and a little fuzzy with the detritus of my real life. I could sit here for hours, slumped in this chair, wine in my cup instead of coffee watching the summer people walk by. The shadow of the working man slogging away outside forever.
I suddenly with it were Fall. Blustery and rainy outside so the Summer people would be at home and this cozy bench would feel more like a warm welcome rather than a cool embrace.
Being an adult has ruined my love of summer. Instead of the joy of sun on my naked limbs I’m annoyed. Tourists holding up buses because they can’t parse the sign that says when to pay. Cranky Seattle people squinting in the unfamiliar bright light, faces red. Their sun shy legs looking sad and vulnerable.
I want to find joy in summer again. Delight in perverse breezes rucking my skirts up around my bare thighs like a fleet fingered lover eager to touch. Perhaps when my Summer days are not so full of long commutes, adulthood and worry I’ll love it again.