They're falling again. It’s inevitable after all. Condensation forms on the frigid pane as my gaze is drawn to yet another leaf as it chaotically traces its path towards its final resting place. Nose pressed against the window, accustomed now to the frosty feeling at its tip, I wonder just how many I have watched perform this ritual in the preceding years. A click and leaden thump from the boiler in the next room is the only sound, the seasonal smell of central heating accompanies the shroud of warmth that is slowly enveloping the house for the first time this year. I turn and perch the edge of my bottom on the sill, back pushing against the damp window for purchase. I don't notice the fact that my back is now both cold and damp as the condensation seeps into my shirt, as I'm too preoccupied by the sight of the living room radiator. As its warmth flows freely into the room I can't help but close my eyes, allow the corner of my mouth to turn slightly into a smile, and start to cry.
My one pet hate. So inconsequential now. Your attempts to placate me by saying that putting your warmed up coat on directly from the radiator was like going outside with a big hug from me was endearing to start with, but living in a cold room as a result did start to wear thin. I never did let you know just how much that annoyed me, that and your insistence that I should also put mine on there so that I would feel the reverse from you.
I peel myself from the window and decide to venture to the park to clear my thoughts.
Sitting on the old bench, slats digging into my thighs I notice two young children under one of the large oak trees. A girl and a boy, the girl seems insistent on getting the boy to join in her game. Despite her attempts to persuade him to follow her, he is steadfastly refusing, instead leaning nonchalantly against the thick bark of the trees trunk tossing flecks of bread onto the grass for the birds. She eventually gives up and goes back to her game which seems to basically consist of kicking as many leaves into the air as possible from the piles littering the area under the tree. Not for the first time that day do I find myself fascinated by the random nature of the leaves and the myriad ways in which they tumble and fall.
A voice next to me on the bench breaks my concentration. I turn to see a young woman sat next to me who must have arrived whilst I was preoccupied. I always seek out public seating where no one else is around, I never see the need to engage in meaningless conversation when I am never in the mood.
I ask her to repeat what it was she said, as my brain wasn't expecting conversation and was detuned. "Did you ever do that as a child?" she inquires, head turned toward the little girl and her autumnal playthings. As a result all I can see is her profile of rich chestnut hair but no facial features. "You know, I'm sure I probably did, but can't remember doing so" I reply. I feel like I should be adding something along the lines of how kids these days are forgetting the simple enjoyment in life, but I keep it to myself. A sudden gust of wind takes it upon itself to end the little girls game and it scatters the piles away from her feet leaving her standing bemused and alone. Pulling the neck of my jacket up over my mouth to combat the sudden dip in temperature I make comment of how cold its turning. Thinking she may not have heard me through the muffled effect of my coat covered mouth, I turn to see why there was no response. I turn to see the young woman rising from her seat and make to walk away. Still with her face away from me I can see her pull her arms in tight across her front. "Actually, I'm lovely and warm thanks." she says with satisfaction, and with that she continues on her way.
By this point the street lamps are starting to flicker into life and their faint orange tinge is permeating the park, and I too start for home. By the time I arrive at the front door darkness had arrived just as quickly as it left at dawn, my inability to sleep allowing me the faint luxury of seeing both. Stepping into the house it is remarkable how the temperature drops after dark. I shudder slightly as I take off my coat, as if someone was walking over my grave as the old saying goes. I take a moment to adjust the thermostat on the boiler and then enter the living room to relax for the evening. I find myself subconsciously placing my hand on the living room radiator waiting for the increased temperature to flood the system. I rest my head against the wall above it, face down looking into the vents from above. Warm air wafting over my chilly face, I start to feel a little more alive. Looking down I realise that I still have my coat in my hand. Once again I start to smile and a tear creeps from the corner of my eye. It doesn't get the chance to leave my face as it, and the others that follow are dried by the warmness emanating from below. I take my coat, drape it carefully across the radiator, and walk away.