fortnight of summer

The first two weeks passed by as only the summer can; an endless torpid languor which muddled through hazy-aired mornings and greeted the city as a new indie playground awoken by sunbeams. Fruit and vegetables spilled from shopfronts onto the grubby pavements, opening waves of opportunities for impromptu avocado purchases and picnic treats. It seemed when wandering down the street that just beyond the final tenements and tanning salons, the entire city fell off and tumbled straight into sundrenched fields, where all the day’s promises would stretch out barefooted in the grass and grin great bottomless smiles for all the unfulfilled sleepy possibility. Bus routes aimed straight for hills and quickly passed from the mazes of traffic lights into windy countryside blissfulness which could last forever.