B-Side Excerpt

I lingered in the half light between the end of spring and the beginning of summer, not yet awake enough to recognize the four corners of my room but conscious enough to have forgotten what I'd been dreaming about. I grappled with its lingering memory, knowing there was no use; I'd already forgotten what it was about. But I felt an urgency, like a shuffle of feet, in my chest, exciting and frightening. I glanced quickly to my right, relieved to be in bed alone. Still, I wondered what had happened over the last six hours that had left me paranoid. I pushed the feeling away and instead went looking for a strong cup of coffee. I was two cups and out the door before I remembered I'd been thinking about something.

And like a name you remember when you stop imagining someone's face, I remembered my dream. She had been there, on the side of a desert highway, making ice cream in a Ball jar, frantically shaking the thing up and down. I had pulled over and asked her why she was in such a rush. "Summer's coming," she'd told me breathlessly, as though Summer were a demanding sweatshop boss making his rounds. She had spoken to me in profile, and I'd followed her gaze to the horizon without seeing anything significant. The Dream Me nodded then before driving off in reverse. But I had remembered I had a note for her from my mother and pedaled back to her on the bike my car had suddenly become.

"Where are you going?"

"With you," she had replied, still not looking me in the eye. Then she climbed up into the basket on the front of my bike without a word, and I pedaled forward, blind to the road. Without realizing how it'd happened, she was sitting in my lap. Her shoulders had rounded into my chest, her hair scenting my inhalations, and then suddenly she was gone, melted onto my skin.

I said out loud, "Summer's here."

À Paris

EF - Live The Language - Paris from Albin Holmqvist on Vimeo.

I Slept Through July

Eh, hardly.

I've been quite busy, actually, working and playing, exploring the city, planning big things to come... Really, I've been making the most of life this summer, without worrying if I'll have enough money, or food or sleep, and I'm happier for it.

Nine bucks for a movie? 

Sure, it's just money. 

Want to do it again next weekend? 

Absolutely! 

I've stayed up late to be with friends, found myself in awkward situations for the sake of adventure, had wine poolside and spent a lot of money on plane and concert tickets. I ate my first White Castle chicken ring sliders, applied for my dream job and been bitten up by clawed and winged critters in the country. And just today, I crashed the wedding of one of my earliest friends...with my mom.

I haven't been writing much; my summer has been more visceral than cerebral. But it's back to work now, at least while I'm off work.