When the sun comes out

Hello, and welcome to Friday. The weather has been something else these days, right? I chaired my writers’ group this week. I enjoyed myself a lot. It went well. If it’s not obvious, I was inspired by the sun when I came up with the meeting prompts. The prompt was “When the sun comes out, I…”

When the sun comes out, I usually hide. The sun and I don’t get on. Call me Count Dracula. I have a complicated relationship with the sun.

Here’s the thing: I like sunny weather. I hate hot weather. I know that sounds strange. I don’t think it needs justification.

“Are you coming to the beach, Fin?” my mother asked me for a month straight. I said yes once. That was enough for me. I much rather sit in my aunt’s back garden, eating ice cream or drinking a cold glass of cider.

When the sun comes out, I walk underneath it. I heard it’s good for the soul. I like the sun, for the most part. Maybe it’s akin to not knowing if the cool kid likes you. I guess he’s more of the hot kid, literally. You can’t say that these days. When the sun comes out, I feel a lot of mutual respect. That’s what I think, or rather, do.

I had fun writing this silly little peace. If you take issue with my opinions from this piece, know they are my opinions, and you can’t change that. Sorry. I am going to an open mic tonight. I am looking forward to it. I hope the weather holds up. I am not sure what poems I will recite yet. I can’t say I don’t have a lot to choose from. I haven’t been to an open mic in a while. I hope I remember how to talk.

That’s all from me today. Hey, it’s June now. We are officially halfway through the year. That is terrifying. I hope you all continue to enjoy the nice weather and hope you are spending time with the people you love.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for your time.