It knocks again. An offbeat dawdling knock. A cold uncertain wind creeping from beneath the door. A rising pungent odor of discomforting solitude stocked away. I stand with my back pressed against the varnished wooden door, thinking maybe if I ignore the presence it will just go away.

This Autumn swept by fast. I saw the crimson and chocolate. I felt the breeze tingling my face. But I missed the squeals of fallen auburn leaves being crushed. However, Winter always has a way of making its presence known...

It’s unnerving how people persist to bind their lives within social stratifications. If you’re not the one who took the lead to look down at the other, you’re the one who was sneered at and in retaliation found yourself snugly standing within the same shoes. Why? Where does all the education and religion, we take such pride in, go then? ..It is harder to look down someone’s eyes, or listen and let a few words sink in. For words can lie, and so can eyes. But so can the illusion...that we already know.

Tonight will be a long night. It always is when it’s so quiet. Not the sound of turning crisp pages. Not the thug of a cup of coffee rested on the table. Not that husky whisper. Not that lingering teasing silence after a witty joke... Its just me tonight.

So where do you go from here?
I don’t know.
What does it feel like?
Nothing.
What are you afraid of?
You.
What do you need?
Me.
Can I help in any way?
Just turn the damn music off.