Autumn

By Kenisha Kapur

October was the month of gold, of coffee, of healing, and the gentle dance of the wind.

Autumn was the season of letters and orange leaves falling into the abyss. Typewriters

clicked and ink swirled on pages. Freshly baked apple pies, seasoned with almonds, filled the

aroma of a small cottage home with old carpets and velvet curtains. The windowsill had been

left unattended for a while, and the tea cups had left a lasting stain - a mark of the spirit of

autumn time. The yellowed pages of a classic novel flipped in the benign breeze, creating a

soft, crinkling sound. The record player cranked a tender melody, worthy of whimsically

waltzing around in the warm bedroom, next to the sparkling fireplace. October was the month

of leg warmers, of lanterns, of cardigans and the gleaming of eyes in the face of the sun’s

broken rays.

By Kenisha Kapur