This is when you'll move to the city and fake it like the rest of us. This is when you'll dive back into the waters to swim with the other fish. You'll try your utmost best to catch up with the ghosts from your past but the current will sweep you under the sea-bed like an ancient carpet. This is when you'll sit at the bottom of the ocean in darkness. Sunlight will filter the depths below and you'll stare out of the window and wonder why you can't breathe properly.
This is when the leaves will be in all shades of gold, orange and red, as if the entire world is smouldering slowly, fringed by a fire that flickers whenever the wind turns to freeze the pained smile on your face. You will want to be those leaves. You will want to fly away.
So fly. Up, up and away you'll go, like a feather caught in the palm of a tornado.
