"An Autumn Full Of Almosts"
The Things That Return with the Rain The wind has been restless these past few days. It moves through the streets as though it has somewhere urgent to be, shaking branches, turning umbrellas inside out, carrying the rain beneath collars and sleeves. From my window, I watch people hurry home with their heads lowered. There is something familiar about the way they hold themselves against the weather. Lately, I have been moving through my days like that too, trying to keep a few things from getting in. It gets dark so quickly now. I look outside expecting another hour of daylight and find the windows opposite already glowing. The afternoon disappears while I am occupied with ordinary things, and suddenly the room needs a light. I reach for the switch with a strange feeling that I have misplaced part of the day. There are evenings when that small loss unsettles me more than it should. Perhaps it is because my head already feels crowded. There are things to remember, deci...
