Reid@YWP

She sat on the steps, enjoying the brisk autumn air. It was the day before Halloween and the smell of cinnamon hung in the air. She knew she’d have to go in soon, but for now life was perfect.

“From The New York Times, I’m Michael Barbaro. This is ‘The Daily.’”

The streets were bright and alive, much larger than in previous months. The air, was filled with so much heat you could practically see it.

"Our hands are light blue and gentle. Our eyes hold terrible confessions." 

-Anne Sexton 

How naive to think glass shattering is someone breaking in, 

Now, I know it may seem common, even shallow —  
to answer with such a simple thing, 

but 'tis what draws my heart — 
the Fox, silver fur, dancing in moonlight.