What is it about the changing of the seasons that is frightening? Is it the dryness of conversation? The new events that lie ahead? Perhaps a new wardrobe that you’re too insecure to give a go? No, no, no, that’s not it at all. They say the world will end tomorrow. The skies will be unlatched. The ground will unfold. The whole earth will tear itself in two just to show mankind that they are not living up to our deity’s pipe dream. So what is it that alarms you? The mis-closing of a lover, a friend, a mother. The lover doesn’t realize, doesn’t care to know, doesn’t care to change. The friend is enduring a modeled future. The mother, well, the mother is…