"Summer" is a word that brings forth images of sunlight and happiness. One would think that a girl named Summer would be one such person— cheery, full of energy and life. And perhaps she was that once, a long time ago. Now she is the sort of person that ought to be named "Winter". She is cold in demeanor, her gaze icy and her words merciless. The atmosphere that surrounds her is dreary like the muggy part of spring, when the sky is grey and the air is warm in a way that's uncomfortable and clings to the skin.
Someone must have called her Summer, once, for a reason, but as always, the seasons change. And people change with them.
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Compendium | Short Stories and More
Historia CortaA place for me to collect short stories, poems, contest entries, drabbles, and anything similar.
