The end of summer.

What a sad thought. All through June and July I’d lolled around the house, gone on lazy bike rides, and taken long walks. I would walk to the lake and sit beneath the huge beech tree and write to my heart’s content. I liked quiet summer days, and as summer drifted by, I wanted more of them.

Goodbye, goodbye… the breeze seemed to whisper as it swooped through the air, a constant reminder that school was starting in a week. My heart ached for a lifetime of soft midsummer evenings, of smoky barbecues and even pesky mosquitoes. Moscas, I thought. Senora Browne would be proud.

“Suzanna Grace!:”

My name echoed through the stillness. I jumped, startled, and whipped around. My best friend, Myracle, stood there.

“Where have you been, Gracie? Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late.”

I sighed, but obliged, getting to my feet.

I’m sure going to miss you, summer.