Through the long, cool fingers of the wind, I passed a crisp train ticket. The winds were changing, dancing across my undone jacket and up my sleeves. A hint of pine, an exhibit of possibilities, and a cluster of dampened leaves, and an exhibit of possibilities hit my nose. A brick street at dusk, lit with Christmas lights.
I pressed the ticket, with 85 minutes of use still left in it, to the hard face of the kiosk for some passerby to use.
A woman approached from ahead, headed for the machine. “You should take my ticket,” I said. I kept walking. From behind, I can see her pick up the ticket. The station gates bang behind me and the air is crisp and awake inside my lungs.
What are some of your favourite moments of fall? I’d love to hear.
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