📖 "last-summer"

5 contributions

That summer, the ice cream truck played a song only we understood.

We swore we'd never grow apart, carving our names into the old pier.

The lighthouse keeper told us stories until the stars came out.

On the last night, we buried a time capsule under the oak tree.

Twenty years later, I'm standing here again, wondering if you remember.

📚 All stories 🏠 Home