summer.

I’d forgotten the smell of Summer. The evening was still bright, and the scent of her, caught itself quietly against the breeze. A joy of magnolia and jasmine, with the last of the setting sun. The sound of the city seemed a fitting background. The hum of a gentle busy; Friday evening. The night stood still against the last of the embering evening. Her face glowed in wonder, as the gentle touch of a smile, rested itself within the corners of her face.

She walked ahead, pausing every so often, waiting, wondering as if for time to run its course. A timeless pause of what was a space, she found herself, alone yet not isolated amid the uncertainty of the season to come. It was the last of our days. The very first, of the waning moments of the end. Moments we will soon forever forget. A portrait of happiness played back only once in an eternity, locked within the store-cupboards of our minds, a reminder of regret, that blossomed to eternal gratitude. Love was never the plan, nor the answer to the problems that plagued the two of us. It was an idleness that came with the restlessness of the heat, that July often brought. The very extreme of the season, in a city that swung in opposing directions.

Perhaps the lesson was to never hold on, but to endure, like the many lonely restless hearts that are kept company with the waning sounds of a city at its peak. A city with all its wonder, and sordid humanity. A city, filled with its lovers, strangers, and the spaces between them. A capture of something worth living again. It was a season of Summer, and the joy and wonder of everything she truly had to offer.