By Lyle Hall
Not too long ago, on a terrible day, I thought I should try something. Something I knew, I knew wouldn’t work. It ended about as well as could be expected; with me lying on my back in the dirt. That was when I really saw Summer.
‘Ha, nice one. Are you alright?’
I blinked, and instead of the Texas sun there was something different. The heat and brilliance were replaced with an amused twinkle in her eyes.
‘Fantastic.’ I mumbled.
She helped me to my feet while a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.
That was when I finally understood. Here was a girl who could carve a world into existence with a pencil. And who was I to slow her down?
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, returning her grin.
We parted ways shortly thereafter, but I still see her from time to time. When I look close enough, sometimes I think I can see a shadow of a world she’s working on behind her eyes.