Welcome To Fake Paradise!

This is the personal writing blog for Joana Hill, creative writing major extraordinaire! Here you'll find the random ramblings and occasional writings of a girl obsessed with gay romance and the yaoi manga FAKE. You've been warned.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Scene Sunday (Our Never-Ending Summer)

Not much to say. I mentioned this story before as the one I'm handwriting, but I decided to post a bit of it on here. Enjoy :)

There were still children outside around a sprinkler. They were, I suspected, the same ones I heard from my bedroom an hour before. There was a girl I didn't recognize sunbathing near them. A babysitter, probably college age, and certainly one who had no concept of how the sun worked. I openly stared at her as I dragged the sledgehammer down the porch steps and across the yard. The air conditioner spot was in the side of the house. Her skin was shiny. I was hoping for her sake that it was sunblock and not baby oil. She stared right back when she noticed me, pulling up her large sunglasses to get a better look. It made no difference; I was determined to break something before lunch, preferably not my foot.

The neighbors on that side were an oldish couple, to the point in their lives where their children had moved out but not where they were old enough for retirement. It was the only reason I thought I could get away with it. If Mr. and Mrs. Jenson had been home, I knew they'd look at me with disapproval.

"That Marquis boy is up to something again," the missus would say, and she'd approach Mom as she got home that evening. I'd have to spend the next day or so at the beach where she could keep an eye on me, more for our neighbors' benefit than for hers or mine. The beach and I didn't agree. It wasn't that I hated swimming, or was against greasy pier food; I just didn't like the Atlantic Ocean. It was freezing-cold even in the summer.

I stopped in front of the boarded-up spot and thought. A plunge in the ocean didn't sound bad, with how the day was turning out. The air conditioner couldn't wait, though. Mom might not put it on the take-or-leave pile at the dump if it was installed and keeping the house at a reasonable temperature.

I grunted as I swung the sledgehammer, barely grazing one of the boards before gravity took over and I fell to the ground, hammer and all. If the ground had been wet, it probably would've sucked up the sledgehammer, and I'd have to explain to Mom why her heavy tool was stuck in her lawn. And perhaps why her only son was banging his head against the side of the house.

I tried again and managed to crack the boards. A third time and I was able to pull away half a board after wrenching out the nails in it with the regular hammer I also brought. A few more and they were gone, laying shattered either inside or on the ground around me. I had more than succeeded in breaking something before lunch, and it felt good, despite the ninety-nine degree temperature and the sweat covering my body. If I was able to put in the air conditioner, though, neither of those things would matter.

1 comment:

  1. I'm confused and intrigued at the same time. I'm not entirely sure if he's trying to break the air conditioner or install it himself. And if he's trying to break it, why?