The Last Summer
The Last Summer — an illustrated stories story. 10 illustrated pages, free to read on Wonder Books.
Page 1
Anya gasped, clutching her worn satchel tighter as the wind buffeted her. Bottles of sunshine shimmered in a stall nearby, while vendors hawked bottled rain and gentle breezes. "The Sky Market is magnificent, isn't it?" boomed a voice beside her.
Page 2
"Magnificent... and overwhelming," Anya mumbled, trying to navigate the crowded stalls. Her older brother, Caspian, chuckled, adjusting his goggles. "Don't worry, little starling. We'll find old Silas, get the cloud atlas, and be back before sundown."
Page 3
Anya hesitated. "Silas is... Silas. I heard he wants something in return. A last favour..." Caspian gripped her shoulder. "Don't fret. We will get that atlas. "As Eleanor Roosevelt once said, you know, 'the future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams,'" Caspian reassured.
Page 4
The old bookbinder, Silas, squinted at them from behind a mountain of dusty tomes. "Caspian, my boy! And little Anya, come to trade, have you? I can part with the atlas, but, as you know, everything has a price. My price? A single memory."
Page 5
"A memory?" Anya exclaimed, stepping back. "That's insane!" Silas chuckled, a dry, rasping sound. "Indeed. A memory of the last summer. The one where the sky started to fade... I need it for a special weather bottled storm recipe for the Grand Festival! Now do we have a deal or not?"
Page 6
"We... we need the atlas, Silas! My father worked on it for years!" Caspian pleaded, his voice tight with desperation. "Besides, I am working on a weather recipe of my own. I could help you. A memory is far too steep a price for ink-stained pages," Silas smirked. "Then I suppose you'll be setting sail without it, like your Dad did, Caspian, old boy?"
Page 7
Anya bit her lip, looking from Caspian to Silas. "Wait... I'll do it. I'll give you my memory." Caspian whirled around, horror etched on his face. "Anya, NO! Don't you remember what the memory collectors did to Old Man Fitzwilliam? He has nothing left now!"
Page 8
Silas cackled, rubbing his hands together. "Excellent! A young, vibrant memory... just what I need!" Anya closed her eyes, bracing herself. "Do it then, Silas. Take the weather memory," she whispered, holding back tears.
Page 9
Suddenly, Caspian shoved Silas aside, grabbing a small, unassuming glass bottle from a hidden shelf. "This isn't just about the atlas anymore, is it? You're not making weather bottled storms for a festival, are you Silas?" Caspian smashed the vial on the floor. Immediately the lights flickered and the sky lit up. "I knew you stole my Dad's weather bottled dream recipe! I will never be as creative as he was!"
Page 10
"The atlas stays with us, Silas! And those Dad's notes about the summer – they stay right where they belong, in our heads, guiding our future!" Anya grabbed Caspian's hand. "Dad would've wanted us to keep dreaming. He used to say what Maya Angelou said, Caspian, "'If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude.' And we just did both."
About this story
- Audience: kids (ages 6–12)
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