Hasslehoff Summer

Just a little bit inspired by the So Many Lemons contest. We were asked to use one or more of the following in our work: Summer, David Hasslehoff, Dynamite Fishing, Pantomime Horse, Burnt Toast. I used them all, of course.

It was a scorching summer; the kind that makes your skin flake and peel like burn toast, and I sat in the little slapshod boat,out in the middle of Lake Greene. I was  contemplating why David Hasslehoff was ever seen as more talented or attractive than a pantomime horse, by anyone-among other exquisitely useless thoughts. Summer is THE time for useless thought, and useless action.

A long-haired guy named Lee and I had been dynamite fishing, throwing the explosive into the water, and collecting the carcasses for our dinner.We were hungry, after all. And there were so many of us blubbering, needy mouths to feed.

Now, we slowly drifted toward shore, lazily lapping with an oar on occasion, in no hurry to return with dinner,sometimes looking up to the rising stars and waning sun. Our companions at the gathering of witches had chosen the two laziest, most slow- moving souls as fisherman. What had they expected of us? A quick and easy dinner? Considering that we used dynamite, it should have been thus. But no, we didn't care. We were hungry too, but why be impatient? What a trip life is, if one takes the time to stop and smell the fish poo and algae...

 

Later, as all of our rag-tag crew finished devouring the last morsels of our catch, a few souls still obviously wishing for more, Lee and I found a spot to rest for the night. Neither of us had brought a tent, or a sleeping bag. We had a few old blankets to place on the ground, and to cover with.

We were the only ones with such pitiful sleeping arrangements, and he was an attractive man, so of course, I'd asked him to huddle for warmth the first nightfall when our gathering had begun a few weeks prior. There were no showers here near the lake. We were miles from civilization. It didn't stop us from huddling close to ward off the biting cold, and of course eventually finding ourselves undressed beneath our now filthy blankets.

 

We were pigs, scum, slobs; but oh was it glorious, there in the woods with this stinking hunk of a man whose last name I did not recall, though he had given it to me a few days after we met. Yet, as I came close to ecstasy, David Hasslehoff's face came to mind, and it ruined it all for me. Why had I thought of him so much? Oh, the pity of having a mother who liked baywatch. No wonder I had run away from home at 14.

 

As he finished, gasping, I clung to Lee and felt like sobbing, knowing that our parting was only a few days away. He had been great company, being as lazy and slow as myself. Together, we never hurried, and took life just as easily as we pleased.

 

In a few days, it would be back to civilization, and its rushing, and it's noise, and it's bustle and bristle. I was not looking forward to it. I didn't think Lee was, either. And looking at him now, I realized he was nothing like David Hasslehoff. Thank goodness. Maybe, just maybe, he would come with me, or I could go with him? I was too afraid to ask. In fact, I had not yet even asked where he was from. I knew I would never have the gumption to ask, that soon, we would part forever, and somehow, for some odd reason, I would never see an image of David Hasslehoff, or go fishing, without Lee foremost in my mind. There would never be another such summer, because one day I would have to grow up...

Author's Note

Just a little bit inspired by the So Many Lemons contest. We were asked to use one or more of the following in our work:
Summer, David Hasslehoff, Dynamite Fishing, Pantomime Horse, Burnt Toast.
I used them all, of course.