The Last Summer

The Last Summer (digital media)

It was late August, the hottest summer recorded since 1910. The children were still young, their effortless joy and laughter upstaging the blistering demands of the humidity. I watched as they played, chasing each other, rolling around with that, exhaustible enthusiasm, only children seem to possess. It wouldn’t be long now. They were growing dissatisfied with diluted explanations, quizzical faces revealing their scepticism. Truth always finds its way to the surface; the nagging heaviness in my heart, a persistent oppressor. This would be the last summer. God forgive me.

Jane E Porter 2015

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