Endless summer?

This is a snippet from Endless Summer, a story by best-selling author Misha Burnett. Did you ever watch the film of HG Wells’ The Time Machine, and wondered what it would be like if the evil, underground-dwellling Morlocks told their side of the story?

The last day of Davie’s old life was just like every other day of Davie’s old life.

The concrete shelter that they called Bird House sweated at dawn, the cool smooth walls growing damp. The floor of the sleeping alcoves didn’t get wet, it was something soft and black and spongy; the water soaked into it and vanished. But there was a feel in the air, a kind of wet feel, that told Davie the sun would be up soon.

Crissie had curled up beside him when the lights had started to dim the night before. The lights were still dim, a faint blue glow that let Davie make his way to their piles of clothes. He left Crissie sleeping there—a lean and angular shadow in the corner—and pulled on his shorts, tied the drawstring, shrugged into his shirt and ran his hand down the front of it to make the edges stick together. He stepped into his sandals and was dressed.

The front of the shelter was open and faced the beach. Davie walked out of the alcove and watched the surf rolling in, shades of dark gray and dark blue. The sun was rising behind him, but here in the shadow of the Bird House it was still night. Under Davie’s sandals the tile floor was gritty with sand, the mosaic of sandpipers that gave the house its name lost in the darkness. The lights wouldn’t begin to brightening inside the shelter until the sun was all the way above the horizon.

First he went around the side of the Bird House to the men’s room and used the steel toilet. He left his clothes on the tile floor and stepped into the showers, waved his hand in front of the black eye to turn on the first one in line. The water came out soapy and warm, then cleared, then started to cool. It shut off when he walked away from the spray. He put his clothes back on, his skin still damp. He would dry quickly. It was summer.

It was always summer here….

Want to see what happens? You can buy the book here (and right now, it’s FREE). Photo courtesy of James Connolly on Unsplash