Summer Months < 1080p | 360p >

August came heavy and sweet, the way fruit knows it’s about to fall. The goldenrod bloomed along the roadside, and the crickets sawed their legs together in a chorus that started at dusk and didn’t stop until dawn. She swam at midnight once, the water bioluminescent, each stroke leaving a trail of cold green sparks. She laughed alone in the dark, and the sound felt like something she’d forgotten she owned.

The first night, she woke at 3 a.m. to silence so complete it had a texture—thick, almost velvety. No sirens, no subway rumble, no upstairs neighbor’s television bleeding through the ceiling. Just the soft tick of the house settling, and somewhere far off, a single bird testing a note. summer months

She arrived on the first of May to find the cottage still buttoned up against April’s chill. The key turned with a groan. Inside, the air smelled of dust and old linen. She lit the pilot light for the stove, swept the floors, and made the bed with sheets she’d brought from the city. August came heavy and sweet, the way fruit