Octoberville

Jenny and I leave the turn-of-the-century town for the woods, watching for signs of Octoberville’s return.
It fades into existence at September’s end, and returns to the void after thirty-one days.
The buildings are worn and run-down, but comfortable.
The residents are the same, shabby but content, shambling around the paths from shack to shack.
Merchants bring food from the harvest.
“What happens when you go away?” I ask the mayor.
“Go away?” he says. “Octoberville doesn’t go away. What are you talking about?”
To them, October is all there is.
Just as to us, the century is always turning.