lucidacoustics

Writing for Autumn (Draft 1)

As the sun was setting, I said my final good-byes to the sweltering, vexatious heat of summer.  It was the beginning of autumn; a rebirth in my soul and an awakening that exhilarates the body.  I stood in my narrow room that was full of books and dusty piles of papers, looking for the drawer of sweaters and wool socks that was hidden underneath an ocean of sunscreen-stained tanks and cargo shorts.  I finally managed to salvage the drawer and grab my favorite sweater that was hiding in the bottom corner.  It smelled like all of the old books that I read the winter before, along with the faint smell of my Acqua di Gio cologne.  I quickly slipped it on and grabbed my car keys from the night stand.  The doorknob was cold and it sent shivers down my spine as I turned it to open the door.  As I made my way to the car, my phone was buzzing in my pocket. 

We’re in the top-right section of the bleachers.  See you soon.

It was the first high school football game of the season, a game that shouldn’t be missed unless you’re dying on a hospital bed.  The first game is always festive.  We might not have the best team in the district, but it serves as a “welcome back” occasion for autumn.  I turned the key in the ignition and waited patiently for the truck’s engine to turn from a staggered, bitter cough to a smooth and steady rumble.  I silently backed out of the driveway and started down the poorly-lit street. 

I really wanted to get a smoothie but I remembered that all smoothie names are freaking ridiculous

Do I look like I’m in the mood to ask for a blimey limey