The cooler nights slipping in through my open window are making me nervous. I’d bite my nails but they’re painted as a diversion. What happened to buzzing power lines and sitting on a curb, picking at scabs? The fly is still on my wall. The skies are going to be dull and gray and my cat will sleep on white sheets. The wrinkles in my hands are getting deeper and I am monotone. I sleep a little bit less sound. So this is fall.