Waiting For October

Her eyes snapped open with the force of an industrial powered mouse trap. Her senses were met with all the elements of a usual October morning. The window she had left cracked open the previous night was letting in a cool, damp and lilting breeze. With a shiver, she curled up into ball, making sure her cold little toes were enveloped in her quilt. Her teeth almost began chattering, but she couldn't bring herself to close the window. The pale dawn helped slowly adjust her eyes to the dim and gloomy room, and she could smell the remnants of last night’s bonfire still lingering in the chilly air.

A knot lay deep in her stomach. Something was different today, but in her post-dream state, she could not remember or place her finger on it. Then she saw it, and remembered. The yellow dress. It was light, brand new. The crisp cotton had not been broken in. And there it lay, draped over the old, rickety desk chair, still on the hanger. The morning was just as she had pictured it, and the dress was even better than she imagined.

The dress had spent weeks lingering in her closet. No sunrise had seemed perfect enough yet, no matter how many days she tried to convince herself otherwise. The air had never felt right, the sun had never given off the appropriate beams. For no particular reason the previous night, she decided to take the canary-colored dress down from its seemingly permanent position. And now, as the daylight began to change from gray to pale gold, she understood this was truly the day. Apprehensively and slowly she sat up in her bed, eyes fixated on the yellow dress. She could feel a smile beginning to form in the corners of her mouth and then spreading rapidly. Today she wasn't afraid, and it made all the difference in her world. It was now or never, and she had grown tired of her mind lingering on the word "never."