Summer's Heatwaves

Freaks

By this hour the sea started reflecting the sky, blending into the horizon in shades of orange and blue; illuminated by the last quarter of the sun finally setting on the horizon.

Their first day had been hectic.

Especially when they went looking for Alex, maybe they shouldn't have believed that no one would get lost. But after a few scares, everyone was able to return to the hotel, safe and sound.

As they had just finished their last meal of the day, after the most tired of the group went to bed; you could have suspected who was still awake.

His curly hair rested delicately on his shoulders. The phone close to the ear, he said his last words to his sister before hanging up.

Attila: So, how is she doing ?

Antony: Well, fine, I guess. Nothing is broken, the apartment isn't on fire and Turner is still alive.

Tinea: Only bad news.

Attila: This is great, she is doing good !

Tinea: She has been alone for just one day, would've been scary if she didn't.

Attila: So ? That's still great, that's a good sign, I'm sure she will keep doing good.

Tinea:... Heh, you're right.

Antony: As he always is.

The young man drew on his cigarette, the one he had finally been allowed to finish. Spitting the smoke back up to the sky under the judging eyes of his two camarades.

Attila: What are we doing tomorrow ?

Tinea: Sleep.

Attila: But really ?

Tinea: You still have energy to think about that ?

Antony: He always got some energy, that's my boy.

Tinea: You should find us something to do then.

Attila: I will think about it ! All night ! And not sleep !

Tinea: Oh no-

Antony: I will force him, don't worry, or else !

The young man grabbed the present he had been able to buy that afternoon, brandishing it with what little threat he could possibly pose. Attila let out a dramatic gasp morphing into a yawn.

Attila: I think I'm already going to think about it.

The radio host stood up, taking a last sip of his drink before heading back to the bedroom.

Antony: I hope he will leave the door open for me.

His hopes hanging in the air, receiving no response from his only friend still present.

By curiosity, he looked at him, noticing that his attention was focused on the residence's playground.

For a good minute, all they could hear was the sound of the cicadas singing the arrival of night.

In the park, there was this young child, playing on the different structures, closely accompanied by his mother, who would catch up with him in the event of a fall. It was like only the maternal instinct could feel those things coming.

Antony's attention turned back to Tinea, wondering what was up in his head. Although his friend's expression hinted at nothing at the moment, a little feeling in him could tell something was wrong.

Antony:... Do you want kids ?

Tinea: What the fuck Tony.

Antony: Just askin'.