For her, it was the coldest summer in her memory.
A sunny afternoon, the tide washing over a young body.
In an instant, the sea breeze swept in, rain poured down, the world came crashing apart, and a boy stood in the wind.
For him, he would give anything to return to that year and rewrite their story.
A girl's white dress fluttered in the wind, her radiant smile like a scene from a poem.
Like lightning cutting through a dim life, like a shooting star vanishing into the vast sky.
It was the best of years.
It was the worst of years.
At the end of the story, whose hand will be holding yours as you walk past familiar street corners, through sorrow and desolation?
