September. It was the last week before I had to start performing and teaching my piano students. The summer had been demanding with all the preparations and some gardening. Sitting on the patio, I enjoyed the wealth of colour and fragrance all around me. I noticed a very special bloom, it was so beautiful, so fragrant.  The last rose of summer. I wanted to share it with someone. A very special friend came to my mind.  There were still a few hours till dusk would embrace the garden, I had still time to visit her. It was only a short distance to her house, I must go and see her before she retires. Having wrapped the rose in some silk tissue, I started toward the park, the trail that led to my friend’s house I had measured countless times. All was so quiet in the park, only a few small critters trying to rush back to their den, birds flying to their nests. I enjoyed the rustle of the trees, golden rays of the setting sun lit up the trail, there was a feeling of peace. I had reached Moira’s house, a faint light led to her room. She was looking very pale, always looking  toward the ceiling, as if searching for something. Moira was lying there not being able to remember her past, with no hope for tomorrow, she only had the presence that stood still. I felt like there was an aching void in her heart. I put the rose in her hand. Moira touched my hand, looked at me for a brief moment, holding her last rose of summer and closed her eyes. Good night, Moira.