Autumn Oaks

This might be the first autumn in several years I won’t read The Witches of Eastwick.

Usually, around this time I dedicate myself to it. I take myself on a little visit to Eastwick, Rhode Island and visit Alexandra, Jane, and Sukie. I pretend to be spending my Thursday evenings with them while they stir up gossip in their small town.

Instead, I might be reading a Grady Hendrix novel or continuing on my journey with Anne Rice through The Vampire Chronicles.

I’m desperate to see russet leaves slicked with rain on the asphalt of an Illinois street while a crisp wind nips at my fingertips. I want to walk to my favorite parks and hear twigs snapping beneath the soles of my shoes. I want to see pewter Midwestern skies the color of gunmetal heavy over ochre and scarlet trees.

My favorite memories are of walking home from school as a child. Always towards home. Knowing I was safe and loved and my birthday was right around the corner.