Moths

The thick air held still in the hot August evening. Angela and her family were at their neighbor’s house—mostly because they liked the pool they had in their backyard more than they liked their actual neighbors. But her parents were busy schmoozing over beer and barbeque, leaving Angela to play peacemaker among the children—her younger brother, Joe, 10 years of age, and Wesley McArthur, 8 years old. They were best friends and arch rivals, despite their age difference. They especially needed to be watched when they started rough-housing. Angela sighed under the outdoor light, trying to quickly complete reading Catcher in the Rye, part of her summer reading list. She had finally gotten around to starting it in the last week, and now she just had two days to read another three books. Now that it was dusk, the outdoor light had attracted a swarm of moths, and she was growing irritated with her new companions. Plus, the parents were growing continuously louder with each beer consumed, and Angela had never personally taken to the 80s rock music that was blasting through the stereo. ~excerpt from the short stor