I used to write about pretty things

I'd like to go read something I've written out loud.

I hope for things to be as they are. I hope for the leaves to die and the trees to be bare. I hope for it to be dark and cold. I will sit in my car for upwards of 30 minutes not wanting to move as the heat dissipates. I hope to stay in bed for too long. I will be sad. I will be productive. I will be cold. I will get to spend weeks at home and feel good. I hope for snow days. I hope for inclement weather. I hope for things to strain and fall apart. I hope for quiet. I hope for revelations and different states a mind a feeling of something new entering and happening and a place not yet visited appearing. I hope for winter. If any of these things happen I will be excited for I will have called it and will have been right and that is more important than happiness or comfort. Just kidding.

A dull bell slaps wetly against a leather heap.