A girl laying in the dead leaves, orange light on her face from the sodium streetlight and she feels so sad, she feels like an empty fountain ready for winter, she is the wrong season, she is bursting buds in the middle of October, ready to go, ready to bloom, pent up and whipped in the wind. She lays in the dead leaves and takes instagram pictures. She feels the leaves in her hair and notices her makeup. She thinks about young people and she thinks about what nine years mean to each of us. The leaves crunch under her head. She is ten feet from home, her cat stares out the window at her. No one walks by on this quiet Wednesday. She is in the dead leaves, she is on the beach, she is unmoored, she is rooted and unrooting, she is a broken branch. She doesn't post to instagram. She goes inside and drinks whiskey with grapefruit. It is time to bide.