GET ON OVER HERE by Luke Whisnant

Before the snow comes and the drawbridges are raised. Before the helicopter blades are unbolted and stored for the season. Before the girls on the sidewalks sit down in puddles weeping. Before the last streetlights come on and the evening begins without you. Before the items we need are sold out at the drug store. Before the surly boy at the burrito counter decides to put away the last avocado. Before you fall asleep. Before the locks on the doors are updated to different fingerprints. Before the fun and games deteriorate into just games. Before they run out of bottled water. Before various things that happen all the time become noticeable, and unbidden, and acquire more significance than they should, due to your absence.