Southern Summers
by Tracy Sopko As summer painted the night with thunder, Time collapsed down on the grass, his legs akimbo, his white hair mussed about his head like the stuffing pulled from a too-loved teddy bear. Soft flashes of fairy light danced in and out of the subtly bruised clouds. Death grew roots out of his walking shoes, buried his toes into the dirt, dropped his hood and made the decision to take the night off. The stillness of the Southern night was complete. Tracy Sopko was born and raised in small Florida town, hovering, like the state itself, on the fringes of Southern culture. She currently lives in Jacksonville and attends the University of North Florida.