The Porch

A Story by Lyfe

The southern heat sweltered as the children had foot races, telling each other to “catch a tiger by its toe”, in the tall grass. The grown folks drank glasses of “special” iced tea on the wraparound porch, occasionally glancing at the torrent of kids, the tea morphing the adults into children themselves. From the screen door Michelle watched, lemonade in one hand, Ipod in the other. Yearning to be in the yard, on the porch, and yet neither place all at once.

She had always heard that once you’re a teenager things get easier. You get to stay up late, go to more sleepovers, have boyfriends, wear makeup, drive, and do “teenage things”; but in her brain she couldn’t help but think, I’m not really sure I want any of that and I’m not really sure I don’t. Michelle was stuck in this funny in between, this “unhappy medium”, with not the slightest idea which way to go. All she knew for sure was today, well, today she could contemplate. She could survey, children and adults, from her safe haven behind the screen door. Today, well on this day, she didn’t have to choose. Fourteen had been a hard age. Tomorrow she would have to find out what fifteen was like. With a final sigh, Michelle closed the screen door walking back in the house . Maybe she would never decide. “….It’s heart break warfare. If you want more love, why don’t you say so?….”. Michelle rips the headphones out of her ears. No longer in the mood for John Mayer’s enticing melodies.