Park Boulevard Smelled Like Pumpkin Spice

Stone Wall Sentinel

Bring on The Flying Monkeys

It was a little stretch of Park Boulevard where the city disappeared, and it didn’t seem like Texas anymore.

I could have been in Oz. I wouldn’t have been shocked at all to see a scarecrow. And there were no birds, no words; just the sudden appearance of autumn.

I passed a house that smelled like pumpkin spice. (Or maybe it was the trees or suspended in the breeze, a captive from a nearby restaurant…)

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