The days grew shorter, the air was colder, and the trees became bare. One day a giant vacuum rumbled through the streets, loud and foreboding, unceremoniously sucking fallen leaves from their curbside mounds effectively erasing all evidence of summer. As I watched from my porch, I wondered where it took the leaves—if they’d end up in a landfill along with arcade tokens, boardwalk prizes and other souvenirs of summer that were once loved but now forgotten.
The above is one of my favorite passages of Art After 5. A lot of readers found it depressing and knew immediately what it was foreshadowing. I read a bit of Robert Frost the day I wrote the infamous Thanksgiving chapters, and with “Nothing Gold Can Stay” fresh in my mind, I selected words I hoped would foreshadow the end—not of their relationship, but of Edward’s innocence.
Anyway, enjoy the official last weekend of summer. Be safe, and I’ll see you in autumn.