Nights at Corsetti's
This is a short I wrote back in 2004. Having just come back from Maine, dreaming of summer, it seems fresh in my mind once more.
I remember those nights at the corner store. The stars were in the sky, the moon above the trees. I was sitting on the hood of my jeep. A plastic bottle of Moxie, sweating in my hand, fizzed a tempest. People would come and go, just getting a pack of gum, or maybe a slice of pizza. The summer air blowing through my fingers. I miss the days, the nights at Corsetti’s.