November Memories

When I think of November, I always go back to the days when I was in elementary school. The air was crisp but not too cold yet, and I remember running across the playground with my friends, our breath showing like tiny clouds.

 

My friends and I played dodgeball almost every day, even when our hands turned red from the wind. Some days it was soccer, and we would fight who gotta be the GK. Nobody wanted to go home when the sky started turning orange. And the last game felt like the most important one.

 

During breaks between classes, we’d sit on the benches, catching our breath, talking about who scored the best goal or which team was "officially" better. The bell rang again and always felt too soon. We’d drag our feet back to class, still laughing, still talking, still smelling faintly of dirt and sunshine.

 

And, those memories still return to me as if they happened yesterday. As the years passed, we all went to different middle schools, drifted into new routines, and eventually stopped gathering on the same playground,but something about November always brings everything back. I can almost hear the wind tapping on the classroom windows, the quick footsteps during break time, and the cheerful shouting that echoed across the field. I remember the way the setting sun colored the dirt ground golden, making every moment feel a little magical.

 

Even now, whenever the crisp smell of November passes by, I stop for a second and find myself quietly returning to those warm afternoons, where we were laughing, breathless, and endlessly alive.