via Daily Prompt: Pungent

Summer is upon us. I can feel it in the quiet oppression of the once cool morning air. I can smell it in the dying of the spring blossoms – so fragrant just a few short weeks ago, now pungent in their decay. Their death is the final cue for spring to flee and leave us in the wilting, silent heat.

And yet I find comfort in the predictability of it all.  Summer comes, year after year, followed by autumn, winter, and spring. I cannot change it, I cannot prevent it.  I can only feel it.  It is life, and it feels good.


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