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Fifteenth Summer

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Michelle Dalton

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“She deigned to asked me how ice queens reproduce. I grinned, and her mother looked horrified. “We procreate by way of ice cubes, of course. We put them in our nests and let them incubate for the period of about four months, and when the temperature is right, we put them out to roost and let them flake off into billions of snowflakes, rather like tadpoles breaking in droves from their eggs. And that, child,” I said, with a simulacrum of glee, “is how winter is born.” “Does it hurt?” “No more than the approach of Monday does to most of the world. It is a natural process, you understand, but it is dreadful hard work.”

HumorSummerMiseryWinterBritish Humour
Author:Michelle Franklin
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“you're the fly on the wall hearing all, seeing all ears of a wall hearing all the secrets perhaps you're the vines creeping over the old abandoned mansion walls dusty, soulless and dead bringing a certain curious life to rubble and I think you're the jewel-eyed gecko sneaking around the warm summer walls between jasmine and olive branches sticky pad toes, clinging to the walls peeking in at lonely summer spicy love-making through silk curtains from the bright orient breathing in incense and tasting decadence climbing the sharply barbed walls the smooth cemented white-washed walls because walls breathe too”

LoveLifePoetrySummerColourOrientalGecko
Author:Moonshine Noire
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“It was a generation growing in its disillusionment about the deepening recession and the backroom handshakes and greedy deals for private little pots of gold that created the largest financial meltdown since the Great Depression. As heirs to the throne, we all knew, of course, how bad the economy was, and our dreams, the ones we were told were all right to dream, were teetering gradually toward disintegration. However, on that night, everyone seemed physically at ease and exempt from life’s worries with final exams over and bar class a distant dream with a week before the first lecture, and as I looked around at the jubilant faces and loud voices, if you listened carefully enough you could almost hear the culmination of three years in the breath of the night gasp in an exultant sigh as if to say, “Law school was over at last!”

SummerChicagoCityLaw SchoolDowntownContemporary FictionLakeContemporary Literature
Book:Minor Snobs
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“The wind was fresh, and the sky was blue and crossed with fresh white clouds like crisp pillowcases hung out to dry. Their boat was at the head of the three others they’d seen the night before, all of them as shabby as Daisy remembered, with peeling gold paint around their portholes. They looked like canal boats, except that they also had beautiful sails that snapped in the wind.”

SeaOceanSummerBoatWaves
Book:The City Beyond the Sea
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