Three nights ago I awoke, sweating, the oppressive humidity clinging to me even after I had thrown off the blankets. I staggered, half-asleep, to crack open the window, the cool air recalling distant days of dragging blankets off my bed to make a soft nest where I could lie in front of the fan, gaining enough reprieve from the heat to drift back to sleep. It was the heat of summer, of childhood.
The following night I fell asleep to the sound of rain, falling gently but steadily, washing everything away - the humidity, the stress, the loneliness - cleaning the palette for a fresh start. I awoke next morning to the bluster of the winds of change as they blew a new world in through my windows.
This morning I awoke shivering, clutching the blankets closer and seeking warmth in the forgetfulness of sleep. I was forced to give in, closing the windows again, and pulling on a fall sweater to run some morning errands. Living my grown-up life in my grown-up clothes, I thought with a sigh of the childhood heat, regretting, as always, the reality of autumn.
"And The Streets Are Paved With Chee-eeese!"
7 hours ago