John Price wasn't a man of retirement, but always in for a nice vacation. summertime, to spend in colorful lands and villas. To feel the sun kissing his skin tan while the cold of the pool's water took care of his muscles.

ladies as colorful as summer berries and gentlemen of longest nights; but for him, summer was cherries, and you carried the brightest one as your lips. the neighbor's daughter of the next villa, there for the same reason as him, summertime after all.

John would have the heaviness of his gaze on you at your morning sunbathing, afternoons small parties with other neighbors... it was just you, his summer, as dazzling and warm as the sun.

"dolly, come here." He calls you on a sunny day by the fences as birds chirp around. He holds a fresh peach for you, under the large shadow of the tree in his villa.