Autumn is my favorite time of year. Clear sunny days, crisp starry nights, fantastic fall colors make October one of the best months here in Texas, but for every turning leaf there are a million mold spores waiting to latch onto the autumn air and construct a fortress of phlegm around the few brain cells I have left.
Yes, any moment a sneeze attack could cause my head to explode.
This same time last year I was in a Benadryl induced stupor. The nasty plastic bins in airport security were the incubator, but it’s true, October heralds the season of headaches and nose bleeds for me. My throat constricts. My eyes sting.
I become a mouth breather.
There is no reprieve from commitments, even for the walking dead. Last Monday night, on my way home from class, I took the scenic route to avoid the parking lot that is I-35. There isn’t much to see on the scenic route at night, but it is a much quieter drive. No swerving texters behind the wheel of their mobile phones. No sleep deprived truckers kicking up gravel onto my windshield as they drift onto the shoulder of the highway.
So, no expletives necessary.
As I made my way home, thinking about all of the things I needed to do, fatigue began to set in, the first sign my immune system was working overtime. I needed Benadryl, Motrin, and my pillow. Blogging has taken a backseat to homework and housework…and breathing. I do have an entry for this week’s Friday Fictioneers. Enjoy.
Lessons were going well. My teacher said I was a natural. I practiced in my room after school two hours every day, three on Saturdays. Playing more difficult pieces over the course of the summer, by Labor Day I was writing songs of my own. Then one day in October, suddenly the music stopped. I cried for a while and picked up the pieces as best I could, but I knew it would never be the same. My teacher arrived to find me slumped on the stairs, holding my head in my hands, groaning in agony.
More Friday Fictioneers are here. Thanks, Rochelle, for such a fun and timely prompt.