The storm rode in fiercely, autumn on her shoulder.
She came screaming, hissing and blowing, changing the seasons in an instant. Gone as quickly as she came, taking summer in her back pocket.
The crisp fall breeze kisses my cheeks as I take a deep breath.
My lungs fill.
The smell of petrichor, wet grass and a fire in the distance.
A good omen.
Change is in my air.
The Gap 
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