At the height of summer

I found the envelope in the trash today, but still no sign of the letter. It's getting harder to sleep in this heat wave, I wake up in the middle of the night and escape to the balcony wearing the sheerest clothes I own. It reminds me of late nights in the garden of our summer house, under the colored lights, listening to the voices of the grown ups and being close to Carl.

My father was there too, some of the pictures he left me are from the times we spent there. I would stay up late to be alone with him, the surrounding forests were pitch black after the sun had set and we would watch the stars together. He told me we would go there some day, I understood the symbolism years later and standing alone on the balcony in the dark I can feel it too: the restlessness and the urge to get away from wherever I am, hoping it would somehow make it all better.