The Enigmatic Summer Read

Spring officially ended last month and it finally felt like summer. The reverberating sound of cicadas was everywhere in the air, as it got sultrier with each passing day. There had never been a daytime when the sun did not shine brightly in this radiant season. She kept on walking while looking down at the road, adjusting her hat every once in a while to cover her face from the direct sunlight.

She was done with her chores when she decided to take a late afternoon stroll. The countryside was always nice at this hour. People usually took a break in between work before wrapping up whatever the tasks they did for they day, so it gave a relaxing siesta time atmosphere.

"Going for another solitary time out, eh?" a familiar voice called her from behind. She turned her head to find an old man on a horse-drawn wagon, steadily approaching her, with a bunch of haystacks on his back seat. "You're still reading that one book from the last time?"

She stopped on her track to allow the wheeled cart to catch up.

"I guess so," she answered, playfully swinging around the book in her hand. "Where are you heading to?"

"Home."

"Good work today."

She politely refused the offer to hop on his carriage. The old man then bid his farewell as he passed by.

A gentle breeze rustled the dry leaves and swayed her skirt. As she continued walking, she could see children raced through the meadow from between the trees that were lined up on each side of the road, running wildly while shrieking with laughter. Looked like a lot of fun. I wonder where they get all that energy from. 


She sat down at her usual spot a couple of minutes later, under a tree overlooking a poppy field. Her shoulder loosened up as she leaned her back against the tree trunk. Without further ado, she opened the book that she had been carrying, and started picking up where she left off.

It was a non-fictional book about the brief history of time. Physics and stuff. Mankind's progress in understanding the universe through numerous scientific theories and principles. Might be totally abstract, but at least comprehensible by reason. Which lead her to think that it would be a simple read, although she knew from the very beginning that the subject was a completely uncharted territory for her, and thus would give her at least some challenging surprises along the way.

She took her sweet time digesting the content. The book was indeed a brain teaser; it was full of concepts she struggled to comprehend. Sometimes she refused to flip over the page before thoroughly grasping the abstract ideas, but most of the time she decided to just set them aside first and move forward, hoping to find more explanations in the following chapters.

Several months had passed since she started reading the book. For someone who normally spent weeks--or even days--devouring a single read, she knew something was off. 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds before giving the sky a long gaze. The wind must be blowing pretty hard up there, for she could see a bulk of clouds slowly moved across the blue landscape. She imagined the same children she saw in the meadow playing on its surface, only visible from above. It would rain flowers and butterflies every single moment they jumped and tumbled around. It could also rain sweets. She only needed to imagine. When they were exhausted, they would descend to the ground and rest under the late-blooming apple tree far in the middle of the field. Some would doze off as the summer wind and fallen petals softly caressed their cheeks, like a silvery lullaby. Picturing everything was as easy and natural as blinking.

The glittering fantasy set her heart to race. It never failed to set her heart to race.

Suddenly, she missed reading fictions. Magical, dreamy, blinding-at-times fictions. The thought came to her like a falcon stooping to catch its prey at top speed; it was sharp and powerful, leaving no room for evasion, unless she was conscious enough to notice that it had been soaring around for some time. But that was the whole point of stealth hunting, and that was exactly how falcon made its mark in the food chain.

The bursting adrenaline that fueled her mind was what she missed the most from reading fictional works. That part of the story when a wise old man fought off a nasty creature from beneath Mount Doom. A future king learned how to control fire through dancing with dragons. A boy catapulted into the past after drinking a glass of sake in a remote Shinto shrine. It must be an interesting mix if they were gathered together in a single tale, although she was not sure she could find it anywhere.

She sighed and closed the book on her lap. Understanding quarks and antiquarks was next, which meant she was halfway to the finish line. As much as she wanted to reach the final post, the subject got heavier as the chapter progressed, and it became harder to keep her initial pace. Giving it a pause would mean admitting an embarrassing defeat. Her arrogance would not make way for such resolution.

The colour of the sky was getting warmer. She had to prepare dinner before the sun slipped behind the horizon, so she decided to head back. There were no longer children chasing each other in the meadow on her way home. It left her with a view of an empty field, decorated with one or two distant houses, slowly getting out of sight. Like a faint memory.

"I'm home," she greeted whomever person was there in the room, as she closed the door behind her.

"Finally, you are back," said her mother. She was busy organizing some plates inside the cabinet. "We're making pasta for dinner. Could you please help me cut the vegetables?"

"Sure."

She put her book back in the shelf before walking towards the kitchen, and started to cook.