summer short stories
when strawberries are in season i can't decide which feature is my favourite - their colour, their smell, their taste. it's like trying to choose between jeremy's eyes and ears, (i pick both! or death!).
i wash them and hold them and smell them and bite them. the strawberries, not the ears.
sometimes i take their picture. sometimes i eat them leaves and all.
jeremy took this cool photo at that bar we love. the bbq one that plays the blues. i drink the highway 61 blonde and stare out the window. we like to make up stories of the couples walking by.
from over the lavender it seems small, from under it's tall, shooting bravely towards the sun.
lean and lanky it hopes to win first prize in the growing competition. though secretly it worries how the blue ribbon will work with its complexion.