Sommer der bleibt

When the warmth has already left the city and the sun is getting lazy about coming to work, all that's left is to wrap yourself in someone's hoodie and believe that summer hasn't ended - it's just moved into two people. With every breath, you can still smell the asphalt after the rain and the salt on your skin, like a memory of the sea that might not have even existed. The world seems to pause, as if not wanting to scare away this "forever," while purple clouds stretch overhead. And let the calendar stubbornly rustle its pages - some seasons are timeless. They are staying.