Last Day of Summer

The evening was rather pleasant for so late in September. It still felt like summer, warm, but not uncomfortably so. She spread a blanket on the grass, and lolling on it, opened her book, thinking she would read. All day, she had been looking forward to this moment. With her studies mostly finished, she could read and not feel distracted by ten other things vying for her attention. She reveled in the moment. Chapel bells rang out in a medley of hymns when the hour struck. Cicadas chirped. The girl joined in the chorus with a throaty warble. Mosquitos were biting her arms; she swatted at them listlessly. It was too pleasant an evening to be bothered. The sun glowed amber in the hazy air just over the horizon. She felt she was soaking in energy from the last rays that filtered through the trees. The sunlight cast a warm glow on the page of the open book on her lap. Turning her face to the west, she watched the sun sink those last degrees and slip below the ridge of mountains. Laying the book aside, she took up a pencil.


That sounds simply lovely...
llane said…

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