She sat on the screened porch, playing withher hair - that little piece that always escaped, despiteeverything she did. The wind shifted, and the porch swingrocked, creaking. It was cooler now, and she pulled her barefeet up under her for warmth. The radio babbled excitedly toitself in the kitchen, and she let her mind wander. Eveningwas just beginning, barely noticeable in the indigo smudgesbehind her, the sky behind the lake just shifting, falling,almost, into sunset, silhouetting the magnolia tree. Itbloomed early in the very beginning of May. The petals, onceporcelain white and purple, had fallen long ago. Now the firstof the leaves were considering falling, slipping into fallfrom summer. She smiled, twisted her hair around her finger,uncurling one leg long enough to press her toe against thefloor to start the swing moving. It was a wry smile, almostrueful. It was getting cooler - the light cotton sundress lefther with goose bumps. She had always loved summers at thelake, ever since she was little.

Time was up. Somethings were inevitable, hiding never made it better. Thesummer always ended, but at least she had had it. She smiled,this time a deeper smile, serene. A few lightning bugs cameout as it got darker. If there was a thunderstorm, you countedthe seconds between the flash of light and the thunder,turning fear into a game. The planes crossed the sky, barelyvisible. The swing creaked, and a frog started croaking.Bullfrog, from the sound of it. They were all over the lake.If the thunder came five seconds after the lightning, you weresafe - it couldn't hurt you. The last fringe of light waspulled into the lake. In a split second, a new sun was born,more brilliant and sudden than any lightning. Some things wereinevitable. One, two, three ...