I’ve started to feel it in the air. Just a tiny bit. Mostly when I’m outside in the early morning. While we’re still getting days in the 90’s around here, I sense the slow approach of fall. A moodiness comes over me that is melancholy and beautiful all at the same time. Ever since I was a child I’ve felt this. My breath catches in my throat and a strange, sad rapture fills my chest. Things look a little darker, more foreboding. This is not violence, but perhaps the distant threat of it. It’s subtle, poignant, and absolutely exquisite. I’ve stood outside and breathed deeply in the autumn and fleetingly thought that should I die at that moment there would be not the least regret. It’s a little scary, yes, like Halloween, but not like a slasher movie. This is the atmosphere I try to capture in many of my stories. Each person is different, I know. There are those who enjoy the warmth and brightness of summer....
Blog of a struggling writer.