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You're at summer camp.
It's raining, it always has been since the moment your mom dropped you off and you set foot on the sacred gravel that was summer camp.
It's the second to last day before you go back home and you're all crouched in the open concert hall with all your friends, the whole camp is.
The camp counselors thought it would be a good idea for everyone to get together one last time, you were all wrapped in sweaters yet you were still feeling cold.
The hall was quiet, the only sound coming from the rain softly tapping on the roof of the nearby cabins until suddenly, someone starts playing guitar and their quiet voice fills the space, which suddenly feels so small.
But in such a good way, a cozy way.
You begin to feel warm as he hits every string on his guitar; the lyrics of the song coming out of his mouth in such a soft, pleasant way.
And you're happy.
'Today is gonna be the day
That they're gonna throw it back to you
By now you should've somehow
Realized what you gotta do
I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do, about you now'
*this first chapter was inspired by a youtube comment. i read it and felt like i needed to add more to it, so i did. some parts of this short story were taken from that comment so credits to the owner. the rest of this 'book' is all my own ideas and plot lines.*
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Seasons
LosoweShort stories that end with someone playing the guitar during one of the four seasons
