Story 506: The Fall From Summer

 (At an outdoor public pool, Friend 1 and Friend 2 lie stretched out on lounge chairs, reading waterproof books and watching families splash around in glee)

Friend 2: (To Friend 1) So, are you going to spend more than five minutes in the pool we paid $15 to spend all day in?

Friend 1: Are you?

Friend 2: …Maybe.

Friend 1: Same.  Besides, it’s more of the social experience than the actual getting-wet part.

Friend 2: You haven’t said one word to anyone here besides me; we could have done the same thing at a park for free.

Friend 1: But this way feels as if we’re at least making an effort.

Swimmer: (Climbs out of the pool and nods at Friend 1 and Friend 2 while passing their chairs) Good morning!

Friend 2: Good –

Friend 1: Don’t talk to me.

Friend 2: MORNING, hope you’re having a great day!

Swimmer: (Continues on uncertainly) Uh, thanks, you too.

Friend 2: (To Friend 1) You know, at this rate I’m shocked no one’s smacked you for your rudeness yet.

Friend 1: So am I.  (They both return to reading.  After several moments, a gentle breeze wafts by; Friend 1 suddenly sits up, ripping off sunglasses and hissing through clenched teeth) Did you feel that?!

Friend 2: (Tiredly, without looking up from the book) What, did you get splashed by a stray drop of water from an inconsiderate child in the giant pool we’re sitting in front of?

Friend 1: No!  Well yes, but I’ve risen above it – no, I was referring to that, that… (Points up to the sky) ill-omened wind.

Friend 2: I… felt a slight breeze for less than a second, if that’s what you meant.

Friend 1: Oh, that was no breeze: that was The Herald.  The Harbinger.  The Portent of Things to Come.

Friend 2 I didn’t hear there’s supposed to be rain today.

Friend 1: I’m talking about fall!  It’s here already, can’t you feel it?!  (The breeze wafts once more) There it is again!

Friend 2: It’ll be over 90° Fahrenheit for the next week.

Friend 1: Doesn’t matter!  We’re in September: the planet tilting away from the Sun in this hemisphere has reached the tipping point, the coolness of dread has begun, there’s no going back, the magic is over!

Friend 2: Calm down.

Friend 1: How can I when summer has come to a crashing end and all joy has ceased to be?!  (Notices that everyone in the pool had stopped splashing and now are staring at both of them)  I’m rehearsing lines for a play.  (They shrug and return to splashing)

Friend 2: I would be embarrassed but you manage to draw all attention to yourself, so thanks for that at least.  (Returns to reading)

Friend 1: (Lies back on the lounge chair and shoves sunglasses back on) That’s right, continue on in your ignorant bliss; I’ll mourn the passing of fun times and the illusion of permanent youth in silence.

Friend 2: Please do.

(The next day, Friend 1 approaches the main counter in a café)

Barista: Hi!  How can I help you toady?

Friend 1: I would like a giant refresher, please.

Barista: (Winces slightly) Sorry, those aren’t on the menu anymore until next summer.

Friend 1: It still is summer for another three weeks; I have a cactus on my windowsill that melted just this morning.

Barista: Yeah, but you know how it is in the World of Retail: end of August means Back-to-School sales, Halloween decorations, and fake Christmas trees.  Would you like me to whip you up a pumpkin-spice something?

Friend 1: I will pass on that abomination and take a regular brownie instead.

Barista: I hear ya – between you and me, gingerbread is where it’s at.

Friend 1: Making it worse.

Barista: Gotcha.

(The next day, Friend 2 answers the phone while cooking in the kitchen) Hey, what’s up?

Friend 2: (Lying on the living room couch, wrapped up in blankets) I had to put on a sweater today.

Friend 2: What?  Oh, yeah, that cold front came in all of a sudden; I think it’s from that hurricane that hit south of us, those poor people –

Friend 1: It’s still summer!

Friend 2: Well, it was hot before when we technically were still in spring, so….

Friend 1: It’s hot all year long now, that’s not the point!  It’s not supposed to be cool breezes with falling leaves and homework yet; it’s supposed to still be super-hot all the time with 16 hours of daylight and beaches and boardwalks and roller coasters and ice creams and sleepovers and vacations and happiness forever and – and – and –

Friend 2: Are you crying?

Friend 1: Not yet.

Friend 2: (Resumes slicing an onion) Good.  Now, listen carefully because I’m only going to say this once: in about two months there’ll be peppermint hot chocolate.

Friend 1: I suppose I’ll have to settle for that as a trade-off.

Story 404: A Midsummer Night’s Autumn

 In the 95°F late August weather, The Employee clocks out of work at 5:00 p.m. and transforms into The Commuter, soon to become The Shopper – there is always some kind of work to be done.

The bus’s air conditioning does battle with the extreme heat and humidity during the ride through the city; the passengers melt off at each stop, the driver nearly joining them every time.

The sun has been setting a minute earlier each day; at night, the heat remains.

The Commuter evaporates into The Shopper while exiting the bus and floats into a department store; the sweat immediately turns to icicles and The Shopper condenses as the overpowered air conditioning blasts the entire building.  The Shopper’s internal thermodynamics are thrown in a state of array and run off screaming.

The Shopper is likewise befuddled: “Is this Halloween?”

The entire store is decorated in various shades of orange, brown, and black; fake falling leaves are everywhere; possibly-fake cobwebs are strung amongst displays.

The Shopper plunges through a pile of football season paraphernalia to grab a shopping cart, and the trek through the store begins.

One item needed is a replacement beach umbrella, which is tucked away in Summer Clearance: “But I’m going there this weekend!  The lifeguards are still on duty!  Why is all the beach stuff shoved out of the season?!”

At the end of an aisle is a few sunscreen bottles; as The Shopper reaches for one, a motion sensor is tripped and a cackling witch flashes its LED eyes at passers-by.  The Shopper jumps only slightly: “Oh, dear.”

Ghosts and goblins line the walls and shelves, and the constant breeze stirs up the haphazardly strewn leaves and strategically strewn hay bales.

At the store’s café, The Shopper stands on line to buy a lemonade.  The frazzled barista finishes the three-course-meal order of the previous customer and turns to The Shopper: “Hello, would you like to try our pumpkin spice coffee, our pumpkin spice scone, and/or our pumpkin spice pumpkin?”

“…Not today, thank you.”

Sipping the lemonade, The Shopper wanders into the holiday section of the store, which has been converted into a haunted house.

“Beware of midnight, bwahahahaha!!!!” an employee dressed as a werewolf at the house’s entrance greets The Shopper.

The latter checks a watch: “But it’s only 7:00.”

The werewolf’s snarling face stares blankly at The Shopper, who continues on to the candy aisle haunted by products not really needed for another two months: “Ooh, sea salt caramels, yoink!”  Into the cart they go.

The ceiling speakers burst into spooky music at random intervals to announce discounts for the fall; as The Shopper enters one aisle covered in school supplies, the banners strung all over the place and the speakers both scream: “Back to School Sale!”

“Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!”

“You’re telling me,” a child says to The Shopper while being forcefully guided into the aisle by their parent.

Shopping completed, The Shopper transforms once more into The Commuter as the journey home begins.  The sky darkens as night approaches; the temperature is now 88°F; and the sweat resumes its previous activity as the wait for a new bus commences.

The Commuter looks forward to one last day at the beach, filled with sand, surf, and people just everywhere, and a book to read in front of the crashing waves after making the inconvenient trip all the way out there.  While boarding the steaming bus whose air conditioning had surrendered in defeat, The Commuter sees a ginormous sign stretched over the street ahead:

COME SEE OUR THANKSGIVING DAY PARADE NOVEMBER 25!!!