Autumn grasses are white

The difference between a boy and a man is one of seasons.

A boy reacts to them. A man anticipates them. A boy gets excited if the season is good, he sulks if the season is a let down. A man knows what the season will be like. He is never taken by surprise.

It's autumn stepping in. The riverbanks are white with the kaansh flowers.

Am I boy or a man?

Either ways I am not going down.

It's never endgame.

Never.

The danger of not

The incentive to live on lies in the next street.

Man wipes perspiration and smoothens the crease on his trousers. He says to himself there's got to be something round the corner. he's not sure what. Yeah?

Could be people laughing as the sun slips down, he can almost sense the shadows lengthening.

But what if there are shadows without bodies?

What then?

"You have to be careful, ask yourself questions, as for example whether you still are, and if no when it stopped, and if yes how long it will still go on, anything at all to keep from losing the thread of the dream." — Samuel Beckett, Molloy