13th Summer

"Shall I —compare thee— to a summer's day...!?"

"Don't go ripping on Shakespeare, you clown!"

Goofballs, best friends, that's what any stranger watching would call the too tall girl waltzing behind her short boy-who-was-also-a-friend.

A ghost of autumn swirled in the breeze. There was a full moon outside and excitement in the air. All around them, children in their thirteenth year, decorated in ghastly costumes, gathered in the streets for a riot of epic proportions.

The darling buds of may would shake, she mused, then shatter.

They lite a firecracker and painted the town red.