Knowing there will be at least three more months of bitterness and frost and the approaching season of death, the energies begin to wane. Like a moon that was bright once but given away to a darkening hour of which there are less, to the dimly lit areas of space.
This is the month unfortunates may be abducted by aliens. You expect snow in this time. But November never promises anything. It is a breaker of promises if ever one was given on the chill wind. The gray is there. You retreat into your abode. To sort through things and vacuum the stove.
You could ride your bike to the nature trails to spy any aliens hanging around but, they're all gone. They hide so well in November's gray as they match its somber color. You want to blast a warm light all around but the sun isn't going to help now that it's been obscured by an unnatural weather pattern.
November brings no hope so you shop. You plan for December. There's this one day where food is abundant, but it's just another day with the bonus of having more food. Knowing you can't eat all of it and really shouldn't. That's November. You wait for its exit and would speed right past it if you could.
An Observation by Iggy 2018
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