You Get To Make It Whatever You Want

A letter about seasonal change and beginning when it feels right.

Dear Creators,

I’m attempting to type this letter to you today with a sleeping cat draped over my wrists. His name is Cyrus, and he came into my life last September, when a friend found him in a dumpster at a gas station in Minnesota and asked me if I was intersted in adopting him.

(I was.)

I’ve always liked September — way before Cyrus, and even before St…