new season, old ideas
* * * * *
Made the mistake, ever since 1 September, of thinking summer was over, and that I could stop dressing like a toddler or a refugee from a flood. Maybe even wear pants. But by yesterday this idea had culminated in so much sweat that I wondered what was wrong with me, if perhaps I was on fire inside, and why my pants felt radioactive. And then after supper it rained so hard that I just sat by an open window, watching wind, and after awhile went to bed.