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April 9, 2018


'autumn' by lb
Fiction: He

He walks with serene steps among the gold-green trees. His arms glide back and forth. The wind brushes his dark hair against his nape and white collar. His gaze seems to be always forward toward a destination only he knows. What secrets are left behind from his footprints on the rain-soaked ground? The lonely morning air sighs. He keeps on, pass the benches, pass the rows of gold-green trees, pass many fallen leaves. Even as a light rain begins to fall, he doesn't stop. I watch him for many minutes though I don't know why. A rush of heads and umbrellas appear follow by a chilly wind that force me to turn away. When I turn back, the crowd has cleared, the wind has ceased and as the leaves settle on the wet ground, he is gone.

She watches as he pauses to admire a branch that has fallen on the ground. He tucks it into his gray coat pocket. It is then that she notices the other twigs and leaves sticking out of all his pockets. He continues to accumulate more as if it is the most natural thing for him to do. Towards the late afternoon, she begins to wonder if the man is the reason she is at the park where she has never been. All thoughts of him soon fade away when she witnesses a golden leaf falling on one of the green benches. A little bit of dew is soaked between the vines. She picks it up and tucks it into her coat pocket. She laughs quietly as she glances around but no one is paying attention to her. Then she spots another leaf and then a little twig shaped like a bear and then a pink rose petal as soft as silk. They all went into her pockets as if she is collecting gold. A chilly wind brush her cheeks and she knows the night will soon come but she has just began to enjoy the view.

He sat with her on the bench looking down at the little puddle reflecting the sky. All day, they have been walking around the park like they have always done every Saturday afternoon. Now under the lamplight and surrounded by the darkening of night, he haven't the faintest will to say what he must say. He looks up and around him - at the gold-green trees, at the leftover rain on every bench and the leaves stuck to the wet ground. He runs around in his mind searching for the words that he had rehearsed for many nights but they're not there. All he could think of is how the leaves will fall and bare the trees. How the days would just linger trying to cling on when it knows the night will come and chase it away. But night is here and it seems to be lasting far too long. He haven't say the words he wanted to say. He turns to her. She looks up at him with her sparkling brown eyes and the corner of her lips lifted in a small grin. He must ask her before another day and another night drags on. He dips his hand in his pocket and caresses the velvet box. He takes in a breath and lets it out and begins.

a to z challenge 2018
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