It doesn't seem right that we have absolutely no light left in the sky by 6pm. It doesn't seem right that all the trees have been stripped bare and all the cornfields are empty. Black ink swirls across my blank pages, and pencil tips break under the weight of my words. The shutter clicks, but soon grows stale with inactivity. I'm running to keep up with the days. It's still September in my head.
xo | Megan