All the leaves fall. I am covered in leaves. The rain falls. At first it is a relief to have stopped deciding, and then it’s not. It is not a relief and it is not hard. To not decide. To not move. I thought it was hard, but then I realize it isn’t actually. At some point I find I am getting up without having decided. I wish I could lie back down and cover myself again with the leaves, but it is too late.
