August 28, 2010
I look at the date on the bright, beaming screens each day and can hardly believe my eyes. It seems that time escapes me, like it has countless other unknowns, drifting right through my hands like steam over a pot of boiling water, only leaving the faintest amount of moisture to remind you it was even ever there at all.
Why does it seem that summer is the shortest of seasons? Winter always drags its feet, kicking and screaming until tulips push through frosted grounds, but summer seems to be gone in a fleeting moment, leaving you with pumpkins and crunching leaves. Maybe it doesn’t help that I’m not even a fan of Christmas, and snow makes me cringe, but what’s more sad than the end of summer?
This girl needs out of the north east!