“Great, here we go again,” Anna lamented, kicking at the dirt with her sneaker toe. She unfailingly let Louise get under her skin, with disappointment seeming to seep from her. “Why do I allow that jackdaw to get a rise out of me?”
The woman glanced to her right, where Ken and Francie both cast her a sidelong glance. “Holy shit, did I say that out loud? Sometimes I don’t realize when I talk to myself,” Anna chuckled, embarrassed, as her cheeks became crimson.
“No worries,” said Francie, shrugging. “We just wondered if we might see that old crow somewhere.”
At the least desirable moment, the worst possible time, the temperature begins to fall. Summer will end and make the world feel suddenly more volatile. The peaceful break once filled with hope for all things joyful becomes an aching descent into chill and decay.
Everything will soon slow into inaction so the earth can sleep and rejuvenate in winter’s incubation.
High above, arcuates etched in the sky signal migration’s inevitable change of season. Such distant sentinels mark the finality of my dread, as avian abandon means time is ticking.
Leaves soon fall and quickly morph into a dying landscape.
Light deprivation looms close, and depression may follow. Fly away. There’s no going back.
The Studio 30+ writing prompt “Summer will end” was originally written by Laura.