Week 6

4/30/12: Spring and Summer always had problems setting up business in Bellingham. Spring would always wait for Winter to pack up and give a graceful leave to move to the next portion of the Earth. Summer would come way too early but always left over other portions of land behind to attract attention for the next destination. That's when the conflict began.
5/1/12: Spring opens the room to Bellingham and feels the ice after chill when Winter left the apartment. The ground feels dry and numb to her hands as she throws in a heat generated gust. She slowly steps into the center of the room and looks down at the city. She gives a twirl and the trees shake and dance, they say with ruffling of their leaves. "About damn time."
5/2/12: The residents crawl out of their homes and many realize that the cold has more moist until it becomes warm gusts. As usual they crawl, walk, then run on the fields, signaling all the others its time to be tree huggers again. Spring makes her rounds everyday, setting up her gusts in key spots, memorize the spots that must ignite on certain days, making sure she throws a bone to weather analysts, and making sure there will always be a chill in the air. She dances as she moves from spot to spot, invisibly in the sky, having the tempting thoughts of knocking down power lines or safety hazards of art to fall down, though Fall may have a problem with that. "I'll think I'll take a nap," she said.
5/3/12: The heat wave is what wakes her up in the morning. She sees the sky bland and blue, nothing left to dim the sun's rays. "That bitch," said Spring seeing residents of Lake Whatcom jump into water all around the shore. "Summer," she yells, "Summer where are you?" Then she notices a massive concentration of heat in the cliche wheat fields. Summer, all in her naked hot form. Naked as proof of her nipples, half-asleep, and unable to detect Spring coming down like a meteor of gust. 
5/4/12: Dry grass legs fly off by the wave of gust. It doesn't matter, Summer took away what little water they had left. Summer cover her nipples as Spring's wind tires to yank out her hair. A question doesn't need to come up. Spring just blast more gusts at Summer until she leaves, but she lays back on the ground and yawns. She is forced to wake up a week later from rain and starts to shrink in size and the wrinkles begin to show.
5/5/12: It rains, rains, rains, and still rains all over Bellingham each drop hitting a ground sends a message back to Spring, who now sits inside the largest cloud in the region. Her listen to every update, and she holds a piece of hot charcoal, squeezing it and smelling the smoking sizzle. Several downfall operations end with failure where none can find Summer in whatever hot spot corner to be considered. Reports of prayers and energy containing deeps huffing sighs bounce off her head. The rain continues and she bring the next set of directions to the next set of drop troops.
5/6/12: Summer hides inside anyone's mind who wants to close their eyes in the day and their skin begins to automatically burn within limbs. Her fragmented pieces get smaller with each one walking or running in the rain. She talks under every hoists mind thinking of doing all the freedoms in the hot skin bare season. The stability of progression fails and Spring's time is up, ordering the clouds to department to the next destination.