There is a sense of calm brewing inside me (can calmness be brewed, actually?), and it's like waiting for the time to slowly tick away.
One by one, the leaves break away from the twigs they belong to, and descend into free fall from the grasp which they once felt secured.
I never once got affected when this seasonal change happened -
maybe because I was, deliberately, too distant?
Once you let the doorway open slightly and allow the light to slowly permeate through, the beam of light indeed makes you wonder -
ironically, not whether the world out there is very much different;
but rather when will the season of change blow in your face?
Maybe it's hard to tell when your eyes have become misty.
Puzzled,
Belle
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