The
days just run past me. I bike after them, but I’ve never been good with hills.
October seems rushed and short, as if the summer was too long and the winter
cannot wait. I hike, I run, I jump, I dance my way around. Was it really a
month ago when I came back from the beach and walked around my apartment in my
bathing suit?
The
cold arrives uninvited. I’ve never liked uninvited guests. I wake up and the
house is cold. I pretend it is not true, that it will never happen. At school
we get ready for the festival and I receive the sheet music for the songs in
Japanese. But during rehearsal the breeze steps in and shuffles everything. I
search for the sun by the sea behind my apartment but it is happening: people
are fishing with long-sleeved shirts on, there is no sun, and I must find the
cardigan I put in my bag, just in case it wasn’t a lie.
I
start working on a new novel or maybe it is nonfiction. And I wait to see how cold it could all get.
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