It is morning. Dark in Autumn.
The house is stirring.
I hear the creaking of footsteps on the floor boards above me.
The news anchors chattering on the T.V.
There is one week to go before the election, a new president. There is fear, and uncertainty in the country.
She and I are talking about our changing lives.
She talks just as much to me, as to the cat, sitting behind me on the blanket on the chair.
Outside, the maples have dropped their leaves, a bright yellow carpet laid over the yard.
Today the sun is promised.