Summer is closing it's doors once again, draping the furniture of a different life in sheets so the sun can't bleach the wood. Shut the windows, lock the shutters. Turn out the lights, unplug the clocks. Mount September on the road to fall. With it comes the fear thats kicked up on your boots staining the tails of your coat. Let the winter chill consume the skin beneath your knitted layers, freezing the peach fuzz on the small of your back. Let the chill wash you. Let the chill numb your face. Before October approaches the chill will feel like home and the fear feels to familiar to be a bother.