Flashfade

Step out
A door
And hair sent flying around the back of my head.
Finally, I see clear
For the sharp air chills me but
Moderates my thoughts
And puts them in order.
*Crunch* as I walk
Sharp crunches beneath my feet
Like crackling fire on a lonely night
But sharper.
Autumn is the sharpest season.
Sharp air, sharp sounds, sharp intake of breath, sharp pain.
Pavement
And also quiet
Quiet cutting through space.....
The blade approaches.
No use running, quiet always sneaks up.
Quiet has no speed
Silence isn't subjective, it just happens.,
Lampost, run faster, mailbox, cough, screen door slam, bare feet, no jacket.
Clouds above shrouding the dome of my world and eliminating outside fears
Curl up in the dark, "stay"... breathe.