What about a flash from the past. I posted this a couple of years ago. I had written the story several years earlier.

The Unwanted House Guest
G. Simmons

The mantle clock has long since chimed 2:00 A.M. The humidity refuses to give an inch. Sleep has become a seldom-found treasure to me during this seasons of vexing.

I wandered aimlessly to the back porch after one final skirmish with my old enemy, melancholy. Thinking, maybe the warm early-morning air might help dismiss him.

Each year he comes as an uninvited houseguest, making himself at home. He lies next to me, making sure no sleep comes throughout the murky hours of darkness. He takes my chair at the breakfast table and forbids me a bite.

He has visited me with his afflictions as long as I can remember. As a child, I recollect sitting on my grandmother’s porch, one late September. I was watching the waves of heat making their way down the little meandering road, floating lazily south. Without warning, he appeared as a surfer on the waves. Then as now, he wore a crooked smile on his distorted face, his pants baggy with huge pockets. That day to my dismay, I learned that was where he kept the blues.

Just before daybreak this morning, he joined me on my back porch as I gazed upward into the heavens.

He whispered into my ear with his hot wet breath, “summer is dying. I will put an end to her while you stare idly into the celestials. I will assassinate her, just like all the others. There isn’t anything you can do to stop me.” His words brought a gloom to my soul.

Without warning, he began to direct a strange drama that only I could see. The trees reaching heavenly in my back yard were stripped naked and left shivering in a cold icy wind. The grass begins to crunch and then gave way under my feet turning brittle. It no longer could endure the freezing torture. Even the moon becomes pale and shuddered as it witnesses this strange September morn. I turned slowly back to my door with a tear in my eye. Thinking, surely nothing good comes from such a wicked night.

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  1. Quite a journey, from carefree extended summer to what sounded a bit like winter…(icy wind)… sets the stage for something rather dramatic getting ready to happen.

  2. Thank you for a great post.

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