The Fall Guy

I’m a fall guy. Lee Majors has got nothing on me. Well, Heather Thomas, but nothing else. His show isn’t even on DVD (is it?), my show is live. I’m ready for the crispness of autumn. Football is here. I’ve had a pumpkin spice latte at Heavenbucks. I’ve been buying Rogue’s Mocha Porter and drinking it at midnight with the air running, pretending that there is a change on the wind.

It will come, for I have built it up, and it must. I’m working on many levels here.

The boys have known summer since the middle of spring. That is long enough. They need another day of sunshine like a fish needs another glass of water. Whatever the hell that means.

It means we’re hot, dry and tired. Bring us new seasons and wrap us in quilts under star-filled nights.

Summer has outstayed its welcome. Turn over a new leaf, and pray that it’s orange, or red, or at the very least falling slowly. It is time.

I’m a fall guy.

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