The man surveyed his yard with a smug smile, and reclined slowly back into his lawn chair. Here, he was king of the suburbs, watching over the slowly fanning sprinklers and perfectly manicured lawns of each identical house as the hours passed by. Nobody knew his name, but nobody really needed to, and he liked it that way. He was ruler without a title, and that is how it would stay.
His sloping stomach met his Hawaiian print trunks, and dark navy (at one time maybe black) was the open space that each fiery pink hibiscus floated on, stretching out to oblivion. The sweat of the ice tea glass that he grasped in his right hand met his own, and the dab of sunscreen on his nose began to blend in with the puffiness of his red cheeks. Eyes closed, he held his face towards the sun in an attempt to gather as many rays as he could as he relished the day and its heat.
Today, he was the duke of the neighborhood, commanding over the empty yards as men and women typed away in their offices and the heads of the children drooped towards their desk as they stared out the window, longing to be set free from the institution that would hold them for another week.
He always saw himself in charge, silently guarding his kingdom from intruders (such as squirrels and lost tourists), basking in the glow of the sun. As he relaxed, the wrinkles lessened their grip on his skin, his muscles lost all the tenseness, and his eyes closed like moths slowly lowering their wings, as if for the last time.
But that time hadn't come yet.
So yaaaay! That's what I did instead. Man, am I tired. Want a quote?
"My great hope is to laugh as much as I cry; to get my work done and try to love somebody and have the courage to accept the love in return."
Sweet dreams, chilluns.