Summer Love
At night, when the wind off the sea screams through town like tourists on the boardwalk rides, Marin dreams in blues and greens. In these dreams, he runs through blue halls, past green walls stretching away on all sides to fence him in. Someone chases him through aqua rooms—he feels a cool gaze on his fevered skin like a sharp pain and senses hands hovering just beyond his back, almost within his grasp. Strands of blue hair tickle the small of his back, the nape of his neck. Flashing green eyes burn into his soul. He runs and trips, falling through the tinted air slowly, softly, as if through water or grass. When he lands, the dream shatters around him like broken glass, the chase and fear lost in fragments as he struggles awake. He sits up in bed, gasping for air, drowning in
