the leaves forget their place

It’s true. Outside my house there are these dead leaves in the street. A lot of them. It’s odd, because it’s the middle of summer, but maybe the heat’s gotten to them and knocked them out. So there are a ton of little brown leaves just sitting there, being dead and looking nice and making crunching sounds when they can. Then a car will come by, fast, because people here are the kind who will drive fast down a house lined street. And as the car goes by, the leaves get all up and think about chasing the car and living like that, fast and flying through the air. People do it, too, like when some dude in a bar gets a normal person hyped on some ridiculous shot in March and the normal person forgets they’re normal and hops around and cheers even though he couldn’t name a single player who’s been on Arizona in the past twenty years. Ever, actually. The leaves did that, got up and cheered. Then they remembered that they were dead and their job was to lay there and look nice and make crunching sounds. Now they do that again, ten feet down the road where everything looks different and might be a flower there or a piece of some animal’s shit.