Last Season

By Rachell Carbajal

Summer- people ditch their sweatpants into denim shorts, popsicles in stock at every store, I put on sunscreen more than before.

Fall – as the colored leaves fall, with each step I hear a crunch beneath my boots, coffee and long conversations in cafe shops.

Winter – the tip of my fingers so cold, cracked lips, people huddled to grab the little warmth there is.

Spring – daisies, roses, tulips, are in season, blooming like there’s no tomorrow. Everyone wears light and simple attire, air so fresh I could almost taste it. 

Every season is the same. Winter, spring, summer, and fall are all so alike at this point, but this will be the last season, the last summer with those people who run to get lunch, who wear shorts in the freezing cold, people who all they can think about is, “Is this going to be on the test?”

It’s bittersweet, seeing so many familiar faces turn into simple memories of my lifetime. As each one of us steps out of the tall black gates that we remained inside of for so long, we leave, and look back on these good and bad seasons that we went through. 

And just like that we’re gone.

But still, I will have a faded memory of you, I’ll remember each season along with your faces.