Spring was still packing up her things. Summer didn't seem to care and uncermoniously pushed her out. Her lilacs and apple blossoms left behind, limp and pale, like a nightgown on the back of a motel bathroom door.
There are rumors that this is not truly summer. It is a blatant imposter and spring is planning an attack this evening. I pray this is so, for the opression of the heat has made me light headed and dare I say a tad dramatic?