About

It was around 12:30 PM on August 15th. The weather was fine. Amidst the sunlight so dazzling it felt sickening, I was just idling away the time, chatting with you. "But well, I guess I hate summer," you muttered audaciously, while stroking a cat. Ah, chasing after the cat that ran away, you leaped out right as the traffic light turned red. A truck suddenly sped by, dragging you along as it screamed. The color of the blood spray choked me, mixing with your scent. A heat haze that looked like a lie sneered, "This is no lie." Everything grew dizzy in the summer blue and the churning sound of cicadas. I woke up in bed to the ringing of the clock hands. What time is it now? It points to just past 12:00 AM on August 14th. I remembered the strangely loud buzzing of the cicadas. But you know, it's a little strange. I remembered the dream I had yesterday in the same park. "Let's just go home for today," I said, and as we stepped onto the path, everyone around us was looking up with their mouths agape. A falling iron pole pierced right through you. The piercing screams and the sound of wind chimes spun aimlessly through the trees. A deliberate heat haze sneered, "This is no dream." In my blurring vision, I felt like I saw your profile, smiling. No matter how many times the world blurs, the heat haze sneers and snatches you away. Repeating this for decades. You must have realized it long ago. In a story as common as this, there's surely only one ending. Beyond the repeating summer days. I shoved you aside and dove in; the instant I did, the truck slammed into me. The color of the blood spray reflected wildly in your eyes and my creaking body. I smirked at the disgruntled heat haze, "Serves you right," and it became a very common summer day. Something like that ended right here. Opening my eyes on the bed on August 14th, a girl was simply alone, hugging a cat and whispering, "I failed again."