It was a whirlwind summer that crawled to a close. We lay captivated by the spider on the ceiling, watching it dart closer and closer to us, then farther away, stopping, staring at its legs as it hid behind a ledge

These last moments
we spent them slow but so fast. A whole afternoon flew by on flickering screen fantasy, a whole evening chasing satiation, part of the night watching that damned spider,

and as the night was closing I found the peach I had bought and quartered that morning on the small kitchen counter sitting out drying out. All day peaches. But we ate them, and it still tasted as sweet as any other peach.