NaPoWriMo #28: Fling

You might not know it looking around,
but there's a green lawn blushing
with rows of foldout chairs, drink
holders filled with chilled beers. Summer's
breath is hot on the neck and the bugs
aren't far behind. Little yellows that
only fly when the air conditioner runs
for miles each day. Sunscreen bottles dust
themselves off, sunglasses return from
hibernation. Just one thing missing. One.