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The Last Summer of Our Childhood

It was getting a bit cooler and the sun didn’t hit so hard. We sat on the stairs with sweat running down our necks. Cold vanilla ice cream cones with the rainbow sprinkles, from the Mister Softee Ice Cream truck: everyone’s favorite. We ate and laughed and giggled and rested. The jump ropes resting by us. The wind came by to say hello, and the park was waving goodbye to us. Us four girls wearing our sweats, our shalwars, our sneakers, or flats. Our hair tied back in braids and ponytails. We had an innocence and we had silliness. None of us thought of the misery coming up. That was the summer before we all would enter the reality. The last summer of our childhood.