When The End Of Summer Novels & Stories

The summer is in full swing, and while some relationships are strengthening, others are dangerously close to collapse. One way or another, reality is coming for them all.

Rowan: “Colleges can wait. The world can wait. We’ve got one more summer to burn the sky down right.” Above us, the Milky Way shifts. The stars rearrange themselves into one quiet, blazing sentence: YOU WERE NEVER LEAVING. We stay on the field until dawn, laughing, crying, planning a year that belongs to no campus, no kingdom, no prophecy. Just us. Four days left of summer? Good. We’re going to need every second. The Last Night of Summer August 31, 2029 – 11:59 p.m., the ridge above Hot Springs

But here he was, willing to cooperate. Summer smiled and shook his hand, sealing their partnership. Keith's mood seemed to lighten slightly, with a faint smile appearing on his lips. As the sun set over the garden, the small lake reflected the red and purple hues of the clouds. The autumn waters rippled gently, wild cranes soared, birds chirped in the trees, and fallen leaves carpeted the ground. The autumn scene eventually gave way to the serene glow of the moon. Keith sent Summer home at 8:00 pm. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a good night's sleep.

“Hopefully this guy will be at the party tonight. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he was?” “What party?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows. Jude frowned and adjusted his sunglasses. “The twins didn’t tell you about it?” “They haven’t said a word. What kind of party is it?” “Typical house party,” he said, waving a hand as if it were nothing new. “It’s Trinity tradition that a senior throws an end-of-summer party so we can all savor the last few days of freedom before we have to go back to that hell hole. School starts on Tuesday, you know.”

"Let's go find your mom, take some pictures, and get out of this suffocating polyester. We have a graduation party to crash, and exactly two months of summer to burn." I squeezed his hand, my heart soaring as we walked off the Blackridge turf for the very last time. August was still lurking in the distance, a quiet expiration date printed on the bottom of our fairy tale. But as Evans pulled me close, laughing in the bright June sun, I decided I didn't care about the calendar. I was going to burn the summer down with him, one perfect day at a time.

"Hmmm. This tastes like the end of summer." She rose up to meet me, "In two weeks, we shall bid summer farewell to welcome winter and her blasting winds." I took another bite of the bread, picking a strawberry in the other hand. "I'll miss summer. It's my favorite time of the year." I stretched my hand to the open window, dramatizing. "Oh summer, my sweet sweet summer."

I didn't want to stare at Theo again and make things more awkward between us. We've got just a few more hours before the camp ends. We need to seperate like two friends who are never going to meet or see each other again. We just need a few nice memories of each other. We just need to smile whenever we think about each other. "Give me your book." "Oh..?" I tilt my face to look at him. "Are you finished with yours?"

Tony said. Kim was silent. Finally, something that made the smile fade from her face. She, too, realized that the vacation was coming to an end, and that it was time to disentangle themselves and their things. Soon, there would be no casual mornings full of checkers and coffee. My heart hurt for her for a moment. All three of us girls would soon be wishing this summer never ended. *** "All right, we're playing Shirts and Skins, right? Guy team will be shirts," Matt said, smiling at each of us.

she says. The estate in September is what she predicted. The flowers are going over, the summer confidence leaving them, and the specific beauty of things at the end of their peak, which is not diminishment but a different kind of fullness. The driftwood of the arch is more visible now, the structure of it is clearer without the full summer decoration, and the weathered wood is doing what weathered wood does, which is simply being what it is without assistance.

August settled into September. The sixth year moving toward its close. The particular quality of late summer in Blackwood territory, still warm but with something underneath that knew what was coming. The light changing. The days shortening by minutes that added up. The fourth solstice was in December. Four months away. I was not thinking about it constantly. The work was the work and the days were the days. But it was there in the background the way significant things were there when they were coming.