September monologue
I woke up this morning and I knew it. I knew something was off. I felt it in the air. The sunlight in my room was no longer as bright as it used to be, but instead, the furniture was rather soaked in a gloomy, opaque layer of light. It’s sunny outside and that might trick you into thinking that summer is not over yet. Don’t lie to yourself. You feel it too. It’s sunny but cold. Everything that was once shining under the hot summer sun is now slowly getting painted with the colours of death. The grass isn’t that life-green anymore, and now it got yellow undertones. I call it life-green because there’s nothing more alive and promising than the first blades of grass you get to see in the spring, after a loooong and cold winter. The clock on my wall stopped. Exactly at 6:17 minutes. I don’t know what to make of that, but I’m pretty sure some superstitious people out there have an explanation for everything. I can hear voices outside. Some people really love being early birds. I cou