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AUTUMN VEIL
THE AUTUMN VEIL Illustrations by Roger Hodge* There is a chill in the room today. Autumn makes a grand entrance as she dances upon the mist and beats her tambourine. Round and round she spins in twirls, swirls, dips, and lifts; the rustle of her colorful skirt illuminated by the morning sun. I watch from the window. The pane rattles with anticipation as she rustles by, playing peek-a-boo with the lace curtains hanging there. I hear the hushed whispers, telling secrets and then, the howling laughter. A shiver runs the length of my spine. Where is my shawl…? Who? She asks as she taps at my door. Whooooo? I don’t remember. Something stops me cold as I step toward the threshold; wanting to open it for her but dread fills my veins and I am frozen in fear. I don’t know who. I only know the room is becoming colder, musty and damp. Again I feel the icy fingers running up and down my back; I shiver. From behind my veil,...