Fall chills

Pulling back my less-than-fresh sheets and flinging my resting legs, I stare. Amazed by the human's internal clock. How little it knows and how fast it learns. The cold that stalked me throughout the night nips and pinches at my skin. It begs, it wants my warmth. What remains of my cocoon is slowly falling into its trap. My enticing bed begs me to return, to save it from the stealthy killer.

A good man once said, with great power comes great responsibility.

I have to get ready for work.

The alarm. It goes off. Have to turn it off.

My ears haven’t woken up yet. Every little shift, rustle and creak sounds up close and personal. How am I supposed to feel? That being said, there’s not much to feel. It’s such a small part of my day.

Standing up. Stretching. And walking. We do this every day. Day in, day out. This is the human tendency. We love repetition. Structure. Balance.

It piques our interest and soothes our souls. Those pesky little souls.

Digging in and out of every dresser drawer I possibly have. Where is it? Where did they go? When did I see it last? Just breathe.

You find the time, just by chance, looks like we’re making good time, all things considered. Should I eat something? It’ll be good for you, but you don’t need it. Let’s skip. Maybe a drink instead? Coffee? Tea? Juice? Water?

Let’s finish getting ready. That pesky chill is back, gliding its icy fingers across your body. Trying to drag you back. It has persuaded you in the past. If you were blind to its intentions, then you probably would’ve fallen for its guise yet again. But that’s not how it is. You know, you are aware, and you are awake.

Even though we’re done now, I sit counting the seconds until I have to do something. Until I have to leave the facade of a strong warm being. Beyond that front door is a world of genuine fear. The frosty morning weather of late fall. It snickers, knowing that I have to come out at some point. I’ve put on layers to counter its every wispy spell. It’s time.

I grasp my keys in one hand and go to reach for the doorknob with the other. Yikes. It’s cold, who would’ve guessed. As the door leaves, its perfect fit frame, the demon that lingered outside drained into my face. My nose and my ears were numb by the time I found my key.

The most revealed a spot of my spine aches from the harsh winds. It sends a chill down your body. It lingers awfully too long. Where’s the sun when you need it? Just a month ago, I was begging for this twisted gift. It never gets this cold in Wogwolp. None of us were prepared for a cold front of this size.

Of course. I had to have a car with leather seats. My legs start to feel the icy burn first. Shivering. Aching. The car it has heat. It's my way out. I need to get there. Why did I have to park so far away? Hurrying, your cheeks tingle. Nipping over and over. You shove your hands into your pockets to help save your fragile fingers. Why so many steps? I swear this is getting farther and farther away. Leaves crunch underneath my feet. They mush around until they almost turn into mush.

I woke up drenched in sweat. With the frantic search for the time, I remembered. It’s fall. The sun is out earlier.