Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise, governed by the Rule of Six.
Prompt word:
SHIFT
“Get out of the water and dry off, it’s time to go home.”
The blue, red and dry beach towel landed on his head, pushing drops of waters down his face. Some, like desperate tenants of a burning building slid as far down the strands of dark hair as possible and finally, gave up, landing the boy’s shoulders and back. Their final decent, taunted with false hope of a reprieve, cooled off enough to make their impact on bare skin skin undeniable.
Turning to face the ocean, his legs shifted in the sand, heels digging furrows in the beach sand, which with insensate futility, embraced his calves, friends torn apart seeking solace in touch.
The towel, now an impromptu burnoose, lit a twinge of early sunburn pain rasping his shoulders as he stood, resigned to the ride home where a shower and dry surroundings would complete his repatriation to the normal and un-promising world of an eroding summertime.
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About clarkscottroger
Given that sunburn it is time he got out of the water and out of the sun.
yeah, but you remember… there was a time when peeling, sun-damaged skin was nothing less than battle ribbons of a successful summer
It’s never fun to go home at the end of a good time that you didn’t want to end.
which is, I suspect every time, when we were young
Summer days at the beach are never long enough, well said.
Thank you.
That certainly summed up my remembrance of summer. Clinging to every moment as a kid, seemed to quicken its passing. But now? I realize it passes even more quickly while I take it for granted! ;-)
yeah, we were (and still are) in a coastal area, so the ocean was very much the defining milieu… couldn’t get the smell of salt water and suntan lotion and seaweed down and figured everyone would supply their own special effects
Wot no serial? Good one, Clark, nice diversion.
“repatriation to the normal and un-promising world of an eroding summertime.” – cool line. I like best the beginning and ending of summertime, when neither is so hot as to avoid suffering in the sun.
yeah, this was a week of multiple ideas (much as you described over at Atomville. Plus…. I had the wrong song pasted. More often than not, the proper song not only aids the process, but enhancing the writing. This week it was not, so the little ditty that you read.
Back to Whitechapel next week.
Let the reel to reel play. Nice vignette of youthful summertime reality. Enjoyed the visual sensation of water drops as they made their way.
And we begin our adieu to summer…
I liked the gentleness of this story of a young boy’s fading summer vacation. Especially I liked the description of the drops of water on his face and the unfeeling sand embracing his legs and his taking comfort in that.
Thanks man, heavy sensory linkage at that age in that place
Sunburn was just one of those things and sunscreen didn’t exist. Times sure have changed.
I know, right? the glow of the first night of the first real sunburn of the summer… crackling pain against the softest of sheets
Leaving the beach (or pool, in landlocked midwest) at the end of a fun day is hard enough; leaving the beach when you can feel that tug between summer and fall in the air, is the WORST. I can remember the feel of that dry beach towel hitting the sunburned shoulders. Great 6!
and!! the glowing under the sheets on the first night of the first second degree level sunburn of the summer
Surely the last of the simple, sensory memories period of life