summer daze

There’s a steady breeze filtering through the backyard – a welcome reprieve from the high humidity St. Paul’s been stifling them with this week – and the leaves on the old maple trees rustle above Tom in a way that’s almost, but not quite, loud enough to muffle Greg shuffling in the grass next to the hammock.“Gregory,” Tom says, without opening his eyes, and the sounds to his right abruptly stop, “is there a goal behind your looming, or did you just come over here to disturb my nap?” OR: tom & greg being domestic in a hammock