Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
summer was eternal. melting ice cubes and sweaty hands. the heat of the island was forever. jimin had been born into the isles fever. body slick with sweat right from the womb.
jimin was made of heat and wonder, sixties records and jazz, longing and of course- the ocean. he spent his days with his head lost in pictures; dreaming of champs elysees and chiang mai; buddhist temples and shopping malls. the wold seemed to jimin an entire different entity. perhaps he and his mother were aliens from another planet. a planet where sea and sand and day stars warmth reigned supreme.
jazz spindled through jimins ears weaving a tune from the baby blue phonograph. sheer white curtains shivering to the sound of duke ellington. chloe had been his fathers favourite. the tune was wobbly and somehow content and for some reason to jimin it had always sounded melancholic. a happy bitterness sung through trumpets and saxophones. his father had always joked that if jimin were to ever damage the ancient black vinyl- hed wake up to find his head sunken between ocean teeth. his father had chuckled, but the notion had always managed to chill jimin to the bone.
the boy had had his stubby fingers fanned out over zabriskie point, when the room and its contents began to quiver bringing zabriskie to life as the room around him proceeded to throw a fit. ice cubes in the glass jug clinked and the rock collection on the dresser began to jump. he rolled over; his hair fuzzy baring striking resemblance to duck fluff. his nimble feet collided with the cool of the hard wood floor as he made his way to the curtains- now rippling ferociously as if the sea had taken refuge inside them.
the sky was dark with smut, overtaken with grey smog, vaguely resembling photographs his mother kept beneath the couch in a leather bound suitcase and from that sky came a substance jimin could only assume was rain.
his body hadnt time to catch up with his feet, he had been dragged down to the lagoon before he had time to think. his mother was a caramelized statue by the ocean, her petite body drenched in the ivory silhouette that was her night gown.
'mama,' he said, stubby fingers latching onto the white material. 'lets go inside. please.' the small women was tranquil, lost in summers sickness.
he had been about to encase her in his arms when she began to cry, tears resembling those of the smogs fit. she quaked along with the island, body somehow gaining back energy jimin was sure had left her body months ago. perhaps the sick of summer was reviving her. perhaps she would die and be resurrected as anew and blood would return to those stone cold cheeks and heat would once again run in those rocky hands.
suddenly the island began to cough. a deep and guttural sound booming from above him- or behind him. when he spun around he was met with sunken eyes and black stubble. pale lips thin and blubbering.
instead of revival, the sea had brought him a boy and jimin couldnt help being disappointed.
