july 31st - 8:14 pm

there is something so heart-wrenchingly painful about this evening that makes it different from all the other summer evenings that have come and gone like the wind. maybe it’s the shrill, can’t-hear-yourself-to-think chorus of the cicadas, which, seemingly louder than normal, reminds me that summer is inevitably coming to an end. the house is quiet; what was bustling with noise now remains a skeleton of what it was just a few hours ago. i find myself wishing for this moment to never end - for the ice in my glass to never melt, for the sun to never set, and for my grandparents to never move out. as i am sitting and writing this in the big yellow chair by the window, i can’t help but feel myself on the verge of tears.