I’m making my students write a vignette tomorrow, a snapshot. I haven’t written one in a while.
So. Here goes:
Like most things in the city, the beauty of autumn doesn’t linger very long. When I awake, I pull on my thick, warm socks, over my leggings, and tie up my scuffed boots, feeling the chill inside of my bones. Over my heavy sweater, I start my morning off with a scarf, picking the widest coffee mug so that my cold fingers can warm up against the hot coffee inside. It’s fascinating how after a summer of 80’s and 90’s, a morning in the 50’s feels like the icy cold depths of winter. Just like us humans, consistently ungrateful, always forgetful. Without a doubt, autumn is when I feel most alive. Ironic, for as the world slowly dies around me, my heart feels lighter. I crush the leaves beneath my feet, the wind snapping at my hat. The warmth of my scarf heavily outweighs the consistent irritating itch it lends my neck, and so I always wear one. This year was the first time I made the commitment to a fall coat, and just weeks in, I realized why I never bought one before. Autumn is just a whisper, a quick peek and then it’s gone. The city turns on its fairy lights and it’s jolly tunes, running towards winter with a speed you can only find in New York City, and I stand on the busy streets, leaves beneath my feet, clutching my coat made for autumn, wishing it would just stay around, for just a little bit longer.
Blog Post: 8/52