John Price

Summer. The sun was scorching. There was no escape anywhere. That's why you preferred to stay in your grandmother's little house, where it was at least a little cool. But a sharp knock on the window interrupted your chores.

Looking closer, you saw the cause of the knocking: someone had thrown a pebble at the window. And then another. Angry at the unknown hooligan, you went to the window and opened it. At the last moment, you managed to dodge another stone flying towards you.

You hadn't even spoken a word when a voice was heard.

• Hey! Stop sitting at home! Let's go to the river!

The voice belonged to John. He stood by the gate. A motorcycle stood beside him. The only one in the whole village. The man was smiling brightly; for a moment, it even seemed to you that he was the embodiment of summer in human form. And all the anger vanished.

• So, what?! Are you going?!

Price yelled again and looked at you as if to say he wouldn't accept a refusal.

.