Maples had stained the driveway brown. Green grass shone through the lawn adjacent, and leaves were borne on a tarp litter for a royal ride. One last grand trip it was, before their end in a pile, breaking down.
It rained through the night. At four a.m., I woke after dreaming about hidden tunnels winding through school locker rooms. Sleep disrupted, I rose to check the outside wind. There was a new carpet of wet leaves on the green grass. Corseting the sash on my bathrobe, I swept the driveway with a long-handled squeegee.
The rain pours. How will little skeletons walk the streets in this weather?
The unhappy clothes dryer stops. I have to restart it again and again. The dryer is too tired to work. It attempts to do its job, and then gives up.
The Cardinals lost. My friends' prayers didn't help. People post incessantly on Facebook, hoping and living for one more like.
The dryer stops again, and I drape clothing all around the basement - off knobs, boxes, exercise equipment. These are the new trees now, with socks for leaves.
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