the post calvin

On Summer Baseball

The pace of the game, a deterrent to some, feels to me like the perfect match for a slow summer night.

by Lauren Cole | Aug 11, 2021 | 1 comment

The muskrats giving glimpses of their heads before diving back underwater—all that I was seeing was so very fragile.

No, I have not heard the new song by The Weeknd and I don’t plan to, because I’m different.

No one ever saved me; no one ever knew I needed saving.

And often I decide that these excuses are all stupid and that I’m failing the world and God by not taking more drastic action.

I stood with a clump of counselors somewhere around midnight, watching the torrential downpour jarred by flashes of light.

I chalked it up to my self-control, which crumbles under the doldrums of summer—I could no longer resist the siren call of romance novels.

I knew that each page contained not only a tune, but also a message about who we were and who we ought to be—often pious and self-assured.

I couldn’t remember what it felt like to have something left at the end of the day.

What were they going to do, take me to urgent care to hear, “Mmm sorry, it’s broken but also…it’s a toe?”