I was enjoying a nice coke, on my front porch, in my old squeaking rocking chair, on a hot winter saturday. I had a whiskey sour along with my coke too. At least...I think it was a whiskey sour. Wait...what even is a whiskey sour? Is a whiskey that you filled with a handful of starbursts and jolly ranchers to dissolve in the night before count as a whiskey sour? Well anyhow that's what I have on the table next to me. The weekends have been pretty peaceful as of late as well. Ever since the university students have left town for winter break. Mira used to always call it a hot winter since here in Florida our winter days only ever dip into the 50's at most. Its not so much as a winter as it is simple break from the heat, and today was certainly a good break. Sky full of clouds. The heavens in overcast. And a nice breeze. A hot winter day at its finest. That's what she always called it. At least when she was still here. I took a sip of my coke then elected for something stronger.

Things were peaceful without the student traffic. Quieter. I could finally hear myself think without having to go to the library. The wait that I would usually have to spend in line to get my morning coffee seemed practically non-existent. The actual traffic on the road was gone too, which did wonders for my anxiety during drives. The bars were pleasant too. No more below 21 (not referring to age) bimbos with fake id's coming in and ruining my pool table time. It was nice to be around the local townies for once and have a meaningful conversation about something other than football, memes, crypto or... ASMR mukbangs.

As my piece of shit rocking chair produced a long, excited, shriek in protest to my leaning, I was painfully reminded of why I kept the stupid thing in the first place. She used to sit in my lap, stealing sips from my craft beers as we looked up to savour the last moments of darkness before the sky gave way to morning. I would always tell her to get her own. She would always say "okay" before tauntingly proceeding to chug my entire can as I struggled to pry it away from her. And then when it inevitably spilled all over me she would lean over and clean it up using her tongue. And then I would stare into her eyes for a long moment before kissing her. And then it would escalate into more than just kissing. Escalate onto the sofa first; then escalate up the stairs. Into the room of rest that made even time sleep. She would arrive at the same time as the sun. The pleasure would make her sing. The kind of delicate melody uttered by angels. A loud, piercing, cry. An excited shriek.

In the distance I could see the bar that I normally went to on tuesdays. A group of young people were just entering. I could tell they weren't townies...or of age for that matter. They were all smiles, like they didn't have a care in the world. Eager eyes full of excitement. Like balls of sunshine the student body were and with so many of them in one place, it was never dim.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I took another sip of my whiskey. Life had been pleasant for the past 2 weeks, don't get me wrong, but it also felt a bit... empty. It was practically a ghost town here. I was only 23, but sitting out here on the porch in my old, beat-up rocking chair with my "whiskey sour" made me feel twice my age. It had been 5 years since I dropped out. I had decided to stay in town and since then my life hadn't really gone anywhere. Like I've been in stasis for more like 10 years as a opposed to 5. I didn't want to leave the college yet or maybe I was too scared to. Maybe I was scared of the endless gray that awaited outside of this bright and flashy bubble of a town.

I felt a prick of coolness nip at the center of my palm. I looked down at my hand to discover something I hadn't seen in person for a long time. A small needle of ice. I stared out as another needle fell from the heavens...then two...then four. Multiplying by the second until the horizon was filled with nothing but falling precipitation. Being a Florida man for over 5 years now, cold was practically foreign to me, but as the precipitation continued and the sleet turned into gentle chilling drops of rain on my face, I felt something begin to take shape. The streams of waters streaking down my face erasing the past, leaving me no longer the same. Cool cleansing waters from above. Falling change.

The clouds parted above, allowing the sunlight to spill back on to the porch. As it did a big red pickup truck arrived. The driver parked the car along my side of the street, then exited the vehicle. He was a fit and relatively built man. He looked to be around my age only far more attractive and with a bigger truck than mine. As he reached into the bed of the truck, he produced a small jean-blue recliner then set it in the grass next to the sidewalk. After leaving the chair on the side of the street, the man promptly returned to the driver seat and took off without further pause.

Setting my drink down, I stood up from my seat and walked down to the sidewalk, taking my rocking chair with me. After leaving the old chair on the curb, I gathered up the small blue recliner and took it back to my original position on the porch. I sat in it. It was comfortable, in a way that I didn't know was possible. It was comfortable, but I didn't sink into it. I could already feel it doing wonders for my back. I reached out with my empty hand for one of my drinks, but instead changed direction and grabbed onto the hand at the side of the recliner and kicked up the foot rest. A wave of drowsiness suddenly washed over me like rain, and I drifted off into a long and deep sleep, not knowing who I would be when I woke back up.