Mays Summer Vacation

May grabbed her bike, a rusty teal Schwinn named "Bessie," and pedaled away from the house. The heat rose in shimmering waves off the asphalt. She rode past the manicured lawns of her neighborhood, the sprinklers hissing their rhythmic songs. She turned left at the giant oak tree that served as the neighborhood landmark and headed toward the 'Old Quarter.'

Soon, the gray rock was covered in tiny, glowing insects. They moved slowly, their lights synchronized. Under their tiny legs, May felt a faint tremor in the stone. A micro-vibration, maybe from the collective hum of the bugs, or maybe just the heat of the day finally releasing itself from the earth. mays summer vacation

And another.

May looked at the geode in her hand. It felt heavier now, weighted with history and time. She thought about the boy her grandfather used to be, sitting by the same creek, waiting for the magic to happen. May grabbed her bike, a rusty teal Schwinn

She looked around. She was alone. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's figure it out." She turned left at the giant oak tree