Leaves crinkle beneath my feet as I walk to 7:30 psychology. The sky is a murky gray and I want to be lying on the beach. Even though the wind howls and I suffer from lack of sleep, I am overcome with memories of the past. Times becomes a wishbone and I am taken back an October day during my childhood. My sister and I knew the second my dad opened the garage door that adventures awaited us. We spent hours gathering the leaves into massive piles. At the end’s day, we admired our day’s work by doing somersaults into the mountains of leaves. Dinner always came too soon. Like the leaves beneath my feet, I have also changed.
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