Staying and Falling

Staying and Falling
by Shea Stanley

The leaves are falling outside my window and it is occurring to me that I have never noticed the leaves falling. I’ve noticed them colorful, I’ve noticed them fallen, crunchy on the ground, beaten down by feet and time. But now, I see them falling. I see them in the in-between, like in my favorite movies about people in scarves falling in love. I’m seeing the leaves falling and it’s occurring to me that I get to stay.

One year in this place and I get to stay. No deposits need paying, no arrangements need making. I am arranged, I am deposited. The green light has been given to turn the play date into a full-on sleepover. Tonight, gossip. In the morning, toaster waffles. Not a drop-by but something more real, more full. My shoes are off and the pillow is indented with my skull.