青春の瞬き

Summer had faded, leaving a scent of wistfulness in the air. A minor chord reverberated through the alleyways in the evenings as concrete facades of the town were painted a heavy gold by the cloudless skies and reluctant sun. Something about the long, stoic shadows cast by towering telephone poles made the familiar byroads seem slightly forlorn, like a loved one watching you leave. The end of summer brought on an atmosphere of change, with postboxes and afternoon antics left haunted by the equinox's valedictory gaze.