October

It is merely october and she can feel that breeze of the coming cold.
The blue sky is replaced by a brooding coat of gray.
Why does she love this season so much when it is the season of things coming to an end?
The trees stay still and naked while the ground surrounding them is littered by the orange and yellow leaves that have left the ancient body.
Autumn is the season when she becomes herself, her thoughtful and silent self.
A season in which she is divided between love and hate for the falling rain as it drops from above.
A season in which she can think wild thoughts and things that will never come to be when she is unclouded by the summer rush.
Could it be she was blinded by the hot and exciting season that lay behind?
It is only a thought, but could it be?
In vain she would pray for the summer to never end but as autumn came creeping from behind she realized how much she had missed it and how much she needed it.
The sidewalks are now becoming mere memories of having supported hundreds of rushing feet.
And as she paces the street lost in her thoughts she notices her condensed breath starting to reappear.
Like tiny puffs of smoke they emerge from her parted lips and announce her how close winter really is.
Then she thinks of her favourite holidays.
One of them being Halloween.
The night when spirits came back to earth, the night of the occult, the night when children in costumes ring every doorbell hoping for some candy to fill their baskets.
When carved pumpkins with awkward faces guard the front porches of every house and an occasional scarecrow to give it a spooky look.
Of course she loved this night of the year, it made her feel nostalgic.
It made her remember about her younger years when she would bounce with excitement about her new costume.
She found it hard to believe how fast the years had passed by.
Now in this month of October she will find her moments of loneliness to stare out of the window and wonder about everything.
When she will stare at herself in the mirror so long she suddenly will find herself unrecognizable to her own eye.
But she didn't stare at herself in the mirror to admire her own beauty or abhore her own ugliness, she merely wanted to discover who she really was.
Only to discover to her dismay that she would be the complete opposite of what she really wanted to be.
And then she will think that someday she will know who she is and how to love her virtues and accept her defects in perfect balance.
But in this month of October it wouldn't come to be, for this is the month of things in decease.
And for many to come it may never be.