by Jeremy Warach
The boy lay on the ground, the tall grass rising around him. He knew how his mother would react if she knew he had been lying there, with bugs and dirt and who knows what other contaminants in such close proximity. But for now, he didn’t care.
His eyes were half-open. A few puffy white clouds floated slowly across the crystal blue sky. Doing this, doing nothing, was something he was very unused to. At home during the school year, it never would have occurred to him that this was a possibility. There was always schoolwork or after school clubs or sports or hanging with friends or chores, and when he had downtime, there was video games or the internet. But here, on summer vacation with his parents, at his grandparents’ cabin by the lake, staring at the sky and watching the clouds pass seemed natural and right. The kind of thing that someone should do here.