it’s the last wednesday in may. the heat is stronger than before. i know summer is near. i woke up late, too tired to run or exercise. instead, i took my notepad and bic pen outside and wrote underneath the pecan tree. once there were plenty of pecans. where are they now? there were many, many of them. a lake of pecans, and i found myself swimming through millions of them, their calm waves massaging my naked body. if i could paint, i’d paint the sky. everyday, actually. i’d paint her fully. her wavy, long bright hair. strong facial features that melt together so natural from her face. tits. yes, i’d paint her tits. they’d dance off her chest magically. her hands slide on each side of her breasts. it’ll be the undiscovered 21th century masterpiece. and i’d title it, ‘an affair with clouds’. nothing extraordinary.
