Dear September |2

My sisters are summers biggest fans. They love the heat, the warmth on their skin. Every year the sun comes out, the same question pops up with it: Did I get a tan yet?

And even though summer brings with it my birthday, autumn has always been more my season. Once the heat has left, and the days become slightly crisp, when the leaves turn in these beautiful colours of red, yellow and brown, I catch myself smiling more than ever.

The sun and my pale skin seem to be in constant war with each other, and while the bottles of sunscreen remind me of the good fight I am fighting, the scars on my neck show me the battles I lost from time to time.

But you, September, you finally give me some much needed relieve from the stickiness on my skin and from the heat, and with you, you bring the first glimpses of autumn.

Autumn has its own special scent that I will never forget. Summer smells like sand and sunscreen. Spring like flowers and fresh laundry, winter like snow. But Autumn, dear September, it smells like comfort, warm blankets and foggy days. Something I yearn for every year.


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