The wind picks up. It sends leaves scurrying for cover until a softer breeze blows through, settling them down again as if to say, Shhh, there, there, it's all right. One leaf still dances in the air. It spins higher and higher, defying gravity and logic, stretching for something just out of reach. It shall have to fall, of course. Eventually. But for now, I hold my breath, willing it to keep going, taking comfort in its struggle.

What kind of person doesn't let you have gummi bears?

We have work to do if you are not to be a total failure like high-waisted, acid-wash jeans.

Reason was for suckers and Presbyterians.

Felicity and I watch the dancers moving as one. They spin about like the earth on it's axis, enduring the dark, waiting for the sun.

My personal motto is: WWWWD?: What Would Wonder Woman Do?

The uncertainty of our future is nothing more than a fog of breath on a windowpane.