Write a memory of Summer.
There are so many things. I had 35 summers. How can I focus on one memory? Days on the porch, playing in the fields with Hub when I was a boy. Beautiful warm Georgia. The summer days of circuit court and fairs with ice-cream and lemonade. Oh, how I loved that. The awful days of the war, and later Valdosta with its disappointing wilderness and strange soil and nothing rich or fine. But still so warm and green and moist in summer. Oh, and Mattie, the beautiful days. Her white dress against the green grass... Never mind. My uncle's fine farm in Florida. The water and fields and roads. The swimming hole where I shot... Never mind. I remember the long nights in Atlanta with my uncle and Hub again, playing cards in the evening, warm and humid, the smell of the trees - magnolias, dogwoods and cedars. Pennsylvania and the long nights studying, the excitement of saloons and the first gambling halls. Why is summer always night in my dreams? That last summer Georgian day at the train station. And then the summers of the west.
So many summers. What can I say?Name: John H. Holliday, DDS.
Word Count: 198
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