When I was a wee little dame of about 16, one of my night-dweller friends (sometimes two) and I would spend summer nights on the back porch, usually at my house, and look up at the navy blue above our heads and watching for lights that twinkled just a little too quickly. We saw some strange things, but I think they may have just been strange by comparison, because no one looks up at the sky when they get older. (Unless they’re unemployed, which I sometimes kind of wouldn’t mind, until the bank account got below the buffer zone. That shit really sends me into a panic.)
Summer’s almost here. Time to look up at the sky again, on those short nights in between workdays.
Speaking of, what a good forecast.