It was summer vacation. Finally, I had time off. It was sunny every day. We lay on our backs in the grass holding our arms up, with our thumbs and mid fingers together, and measured how much blue sky we could see through the gap.
This summer it was blue both inside and outside the circle. It was that summer. The summer you will always remember.
The summer holidays seemed endless. Us boys in the streets played football on the pitch every day. It was a kind of grass field. At least that’s how it’s remembered. But we had scythes and iron rakes with us several days a week to keep the nettles off the pitch. The pitch was under the bridge where one boundary was the world’s longest house. We probably knew that it wasn’t, but at least it was the city’s longest. That’s where they made rope in the old days. Reeperbahn was a low building, probably 3-400 metres in length. The best soccer players amongst us used the building as a partner and kicked the ball hard into the building so it bounced out onto the field past the opposing players. Sometimes it went wrong, and the ball hit a window and disappeared into the building. Collecting the ball was always a little awe-inspiring, keeping in mind the respect we had for the people who once worked there. No one had worked here for 50 years, and the place looked like they just went home one day and never came back. There were hammers and tools on the benches and ropes were strung up to twine.
On the days we weren’t on the pitch, we were out on the rocks. We dived, swam, flirted with the girls, and sunbathed. We smeared ourselves with peanut oil to get a proper tan without thinking of the risk.
In the evenings we went to the cinema. There were half price reruns of all movies in the summer, and I think we must have been there every night.
It was also that summer I caught sight of one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen until then. She had dark curly hair, cute freckles, deep brown eyes, she was topless and moved only in slow motion. I had seen her many times before. We were practically neighbours and I had known her all my life. But this summer there was something special about her. She glowed in a different way than the others. We were not just kids anymore.
I had seen them before. Most recently last year. But this summer they were perfect. Pointy, as if they were pointing at me and life itself.
We were young, tanned, playful and summer seemed endless.
Billy Bronco is telling you 