(no subject)
winter is coming. the chill of it was in Sacramento this morning as i waited, shivering, for Train number 529 to take me back to my new city. cold seeped through my thin sweater, attacking my arms and fingers so deftly that even sitting this climate controlled train car for the last hour and a half could not rid my body of it. despite my love for this season, the onslaught of rain and dark, dreary days in san francisco is not something i can look forward to. there are no dry, safe hallways to guide me to my classrooms, only slippery steps and cold air. even thick, warm jackets fail to guard my poor fingers from their own faulty blood flow.
if only these perfect Indian summer days could continue on indefinitely, with their lovely warm breezes reminiscent of when we were young and everything was easier and we could still reach out and grab our mother's cool, comforting hands if ever we were afraid.
if only these perfect Indian summer days could continue on indefinitely, with their lovely warm breezes reminiscent of when we were young and everything was easier and we could still reach out and grab our mother's cool, comforting hands if ever we were afraid.