I stand at the street corner and wait for the cars to pass. The wind picks up and I pull my beanie further over my red-tipped ears. I pause for a moment and listen for a hint of oncoming cars. Not hearing the telltale sound, I cross the street and reach my yard. As I make my way across my lawn, a sea of reds, dirty golds, and dying browns, I am aware of the soft crunch my feet make when I step on the brittle grass stubs. I take a deep breath when I step onto my porch and I close my eyes. I love the smell of fireplaces and crisp air around this time of year. I take my gloves off and feel around my purse for my keys. The keys are like ice cubes in my hands; a numbing cold. It amazes me how it has gotten so cold so quickly as it is not winter yet. Autumn really is a wonderous season.

I blow out my cheeks as I open the front door; walking inside and closing the door before the steam my breath made dissapears. I drape my coat on the rack my dad placed in the foyer a few years back and I place my purse on the small oak table next to it. I unbutton my uniform shirt as I make my way to the kitchen. After putting a mug of milk for cocoa in the microwave and changing into a pair of black yoga pants, a purple sweatshirt, and donning my favorite pair of slippers, I shuffle into my living room.

I lean down and switch on the Christmas tree, which I always put up super early, I turn off the ceiling light, and then I walk across the room to the CD player/radio and press play. The stereo comes to life with a smooth whisper of holiday music. The microwave beeps.

I measure in cocoa powder, and set the steaming mug on the counter. I reach ino the cupboard and search for a peppermint stick, which I use to stir my drink, and lean it in the mug. I pick up my minty hot chocolate, slide my notebook and pen into the crook of my arm, and exit the kitchen; turning the light off when I pass the switch.

I plop down on the couch next to the tree and set my notebook down next to me. I take a sip out of my green and brown mug and then I lean forward to set it down on the end table in front of the couch. I sigh contentedly and open my notebook. I begin to write.