Photo: Doorknob. There is something uneventful and slow about this time of year. The air is biting but not cold enough for teeth to clench. Browning leaves clutch onto the emaciated branches refusing to let the wind take them on a little tango. Although I have stopped counting my age, it is hard not to feel uneasy around this month with the ominous notion of my teenage years fleeting away before I could make a statement in this world.
Yes, age is a vexing perception. Inevitably.
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