Sukkos weather

Cold air hits my face
I am propelled up the street as if by a force all its own.
My nose runs.
My hands are numb.

People marvel at how cold it is outside.
But I like it.
Even though it signals winter and the end of summer.
It is refreshing.

I walk fast and it warms me.
I know inside it'll be hot.
I am not ready for that.
So I sit on a bench and huddle in my sweater.

I can't text, my hands are cold.
I eat candy and reminisce about the past.
We sit there, summer, winter, fall, rain or shine.
And everything is okay.

Our laughter rings out in the street.
Whispered words too scandalous to say out loud.
Heads turn.
But we do not try to attract attention.

In our bubble, no one else exists.
Besides for us, and our inside jokes.
Night has fallen
and it is time to go inside.

The clocks ticks.
The house is quiet.
I am smiling
and everything is alright.