Writing Challenge ~ October 2012

[Britwitch]

WRITING CHALLENGE ~ OCTOBER 2012​

Here’s this month’s prompt...sorry it’s late but, eh, I’m pregnant – the fact that I remember my own name at the moment is something of an achievement! So it’s a 10 day challenge and with that in mind, here’s an autumnal montage to stimulate your imagination.

You can involve the prompt itself in your piece and make your link to the prompt as obvious or as subtle as you like or use it simply as inspiration for something else. You can use part of the prompt, just one aspect of the image, or use it in its entirety.

The word limit for this challenge is 1,750 words and your submission can take whatever form you desire – poetry or prose, complete story or a vignette. Erotic or not, serious or light hearted, it’s whatever you want it to be!!

Post only your submissions in this thread, constructive comments and reviews are to be posted in the appropriately named – Writing Challenge ~ Comments and Reviews Thread

The deadline for this month’s challenge is Hallowe’en - Wednesday 31st October 2012, with November’s challenge ‘going live’ on Thursday 1st!

Previous challenges and reviews can be found here.

Happy writing!

 

[marauder13]

Autumn

"It's all your fault."

Adrian smiled. Adrianna was looking everywhere except at him.

"Of course it is, I am your teacher after all."

She glared at him, before snapping her head back to look away from him once more.

"Prick," she muttered to herself.

"I have one, but I am not one."

Adrianna spun around, stepping in front of him. The deep purple, lace dress flared about her feet, swishing back and forth until all of the momentum was lost.

"This is not a joke. This was the loveliest time of year for me, and you have ruined it for me."

"Ruined it how?"

She bent down, picking up one of the numerous dried leaves off the ground, and practically shoved it into his face. "This is how! I can see that it's dead. With that... sight of yours that you showed me to use, I can see how it died too."

"Do you mourn the hair that falls from your scalp too?"

"What?!? Don't you go doing that Yoda shit on me again. I can still punch you, you know."

"A feeble threat, apprentice. Even if I desired to permit you the ability to strike me, any damage you do would be gone before you were ready to strike me again. You needed to learn just how much can be done with that one small part of our legacy.

"So, answer the question. Do you also mourn any hair that falls from your scalp?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why mourn the leaf? It is but the same for the tree. It serves its purpose, then when there is no longer a need, the leaf is set free." Adrian took the leaf from her hand. "Unlike your hair, this will be taken back into the soil, to rejoin the tree once more, helping it to sustain itself when it awakens once more in the Spring."

Adrianna frowned, turning to look at the closest tree. She took out her blade, the birthday gift from Adrian, and pressed the tip against the pad of her pinkie. A small bead of blood appeared, and she dabbed her eyelids.

"Water of Life; make the rose tinted lens; show me the Life; within all I can see."

She looked at the tree, almost bare of the leaves that crowned it through Spring and Summer. She was able to read the colours clearly, seeing that the tree was in robust health, even if the remaining leaves were suffering terminal lack of life.

"When you go to sleep, normally, do you wear what you did through the day to bed?"

Adrianna was still gazing upon the tree, letting her mind wander as she followed the lethargic flow of the colours about the tree's trunk. "No, I remove them and get into something more appropriate for sleep. Just like the tree is."

Adrian smiled with genuine warmth. "Exactly. Winter approaches, and the tree readies itself to sleep. Leaves let in warmth, but also let in cold too. So, the leaves go, allowing it to... rug up before sleeping. Come Spring, it will open itself up again and bath in the light and warmth. The cycle of growth and living continues.

"But that was part of the reason for this walk, apprentice. There is more for you to learn, and now is the time to learn."

She broke her gaze from the tree, focusing on her mentor. With the sight she had been taught, Adrianna had learnt that Adrian was indeed older than he appeared. His hair was still a vibrant brown, with the mature touches of frost at his temples. His eyes were bright, his skin was tanned just enough to give it a healthy shade. To the normal eye, he would be no older than 40. To the newly trained eyes of Adrianna, she knew him to be closer to 90 than 80.

"What am I to learn this time, Master?"

"Physician, heal thy self." He flicked a finger through the air. She felt a searing pain in her left arm. Just an inch above her wrist was a shallow cut already oozing blood. Her anger boiled within her before she brought it under control. She knew he would be looking on impassively, observing her in every detail.

'He always does the big lessons this way, by throwing me in the deep end.'

'It is the best way for someone to learn how to swim, even enough to keep their head above water.'

"One day, you are going to teach me how to do that, so I can keep you out of my fucking head!!"

"One day, you'll learn how to do it by actually keeping me out of your head, apprentice. Until then... Now, what will you do?"

"How the fuck should I know?!? This is hurting like a bitch too, you know."

"You've be cut before, haven't you? Or hurt yourself to the point of bleeding?"

"Yes, but not by a magic wielding sadist."

"Well, think it through. What did you do then?"

"Wha-" She caught herself in time. Adrian never told her what to do, but showed her. It frustrated the hell out of her a lot, but he wouldn't change how he did things.

"Well, I would look at the injury to see how bad it is." She glanced at him, but his expression was unmoved. "It's messy, but not too major, thankfully. Then, I would clean it, and put a bandage over it to help it heal."

Again, his expression was unchanged. Adrianna sighed in frustration.

"I've missed something obvious, haven't I?" A single nod in reply. "Thanks, helpful as always."

She looked at her wound again, talking softly to herself. "Look at the injury to see how bad it is." A few moments passed. "Fuck! Of course."

She dipped a finger into the blood from her wound, dabbing her eyelids and speaking the words. When her eyes opened, she saw the wound was very minor, and was of little threat to her safety.

"So, I can see exactly what damage has been done with our magic... He thinks I can now do something about it." She sank to the ground, crossing her legs and closing her eyes. She tried to remember everything he had told her in the boring lessons on the theory behind what they did.

They sat under Tree, as he explained how her new sight worked.

"Everything has a pattern. Creatures, objects, thoughts, light... We first learn to see those patterns, to learn what is correct in the pattern. With that wisdom, when we see something damaged, or injured, we can see where the pattern is rent, and restore it to what it should be. The day will come when you look at the Life within something, you will see where the damage to the pattern is, if any, and know how to fix the pattern, thereby healing it."

Adrianna saw in the flow of Life within her arm, where the pattern was damaged, reflected in actual body. Her brow creased as she tried to reach out with the same... sense that made her see the Life. She felt the pressure, a bulge that couldn't break free, like a hand pushing through a sheet of rubber.

"He knows I can do it, therefore I can do it. I will do it." The bulge was there, larger but still holding her back. "I am missing something. There is blood to catch my will, and move with it. Stupid bitch, Adrianna, the brain does more than hold your ears apart."

She saw the pattern once more, damaged. In her mind, she brought forth what her pattern would look like healed. She centred herself, clearing her mind of everything else. "You will look like that. Now."

She pushed the image of her healed pattern onto the reality that she saw in her eyes. The bulge burst. She felt herself surrounded by the warmth of a late Spring day in the sun. The unease she felt was washed away by it. Adrianna started to laugh, a joyous sound that echoed off the trees. Her eyes watered as the wound slowly closed, faded and disappeared entirely. In her sight, the pattern was as she visualized it; perfectly normal.

Adrian squatted down, gathering her in his arms and holding her tight. She wrapped her arms about him, returning the gesture fiercely.

"You did well, apprentice."

She pulled back, looking at him with a big smile.

"It's all your fault."

"Of course it is, I am your teacher after all."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Alright. This was pretty much impromptu and off the cuff, so... hopefully it's not too ridiculous. Heh.

------------

She was awake, and she realized that she had no idea how long she had been. It was still full dark, the moon gone on this chilly fall evening, but it could be midnight or 6 a.m. for all she knew. The clock was right there, red digital letters that would satisfy her curiosity not more than a foot and a half from her head. So why wasn't she able to see them?

She tried to turn her head, to get a better view.

She tried to lift arm, to see if her hair was caught on something.

Nothing moved. Nothing worked. It was like she was trapped inside her body, the controls broken, the signals not getting through.

Move, goddammit, mo-

She wasn't alone. A black pit filled the place where her heart used to be as she realized this. The low creak of her door opening confirmed it, shooting ice through her veins.

A shadow, somehow darker than the darkness in her room, formless and yet clearly in the vague shape of something moving towards her, stretched across the ceiling above her.

Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod...

Her heart pounded, the sound almost filling her ears, throbbing in her temple, heating up her ears. Through it, around it, inside it, she could hear the slow steps on the plush beige carpet in her room.

Closer.

Closer.

"What's the matter, precious? Can't move?"

The voice was slick and cold, a whisper through trees stripped bear of their leaves. It seemed to easily rise above the insistent thudding heartbeat in her ears, almost as if the pounding had to compete with the voice to be heard and not the other-

He's in my head. Oh god, help me, please help me, he's in my head and I can't get him out.

A low and terrible laugh filled her ears, drowning out the sound of her heartbeat, drowning out her thoughts, riding on the wave of her fear, and she realized that that he knew what she was thinking. He was in the room, yes. But he was inside her, too. Sharing the space in her head.

"Yesssss..." It was a drawn out, hissing answer, and only the paralysis kept her from screaming, crying, trembling, running.

In a rush of movement, the quilt sewn by her grandmother was pulled from her body, disappearing across the room and out of her field of vision. Left on her back, only a thin cotton nightgown separating her from the cool air of the room, and in a moment that was ruined, torn down the center and pulled back like the skin of a frog in high school biology.

She was naked to him.

Small, firm breasts rose and fell with her rapid, shallow breaths. A finger found the center of her collarbone, ice cold with a tip of bluntly rounded steel it seemed, and goosebumps came to life wherever it touched. Down it moved, between breasts topped with pink and stiff nipples, along the center line of her body, through the dark curls of pubic hair.

It was on her chest suddenly, filling her vision, a shape that obscured the ceiling beyond, darkness that made it hard to breath. He was heavy, he spared no amount of his weight from pressing down on her chest, and the low and terrible laugh echoed in her head again.

She screamed.

In her head, it was a shattering thing, it rattled the walls and woke the neighbors and chased him away. Outside of her head, it was nothing more than a pathetic gurgle in her throat that lasted barely a second.

"So precious when she struggles, yesssss..." Another hissed word, and it was then that she saw his eyes, glowing red embers that floated in the darkness above her, looking into her, through her, seeing and knowing all. The eyes grew larger, closer, he leaned down over her, a chill of cold against her cheek as he touched her.

It was erased quickly by the heat, wet and intense against her, and she realized he was licking her.

"And she's so delicious, too."

Her other cheek met the same heat, the steam of his breath rushing across her ear, through her hair.

"We have hours, pretty. Hours before the sun comes up. Hours before they come looking. And so much can be done, pretty. Sssso much..."

She tried to scream again, managed nothing more than a feeble gurgle which shut off instantly as the cold of his fingertip met the side of her neck.

On the other side, in the smooth curve where her neck and shoulder joined together, she felt the heat of his tongue again. It was quickly interrupted by the intense and piercing pain of his teeth on her skin.

Yes, there were hours left in the dark.

 

[Nina327]

It had been almost a year since she even entered their bedroom. A fine sweater of dust covered every tiny detail of the Victorian inspired furniture and the little silver brush she loved to hate, the iron scrolls of the furniture, and the last trail of clothing cast off in passions…everything that was.

Finally now… she could bear the room full of memories without raising it to the ground. Elaina sank to her knees and let the memories bath her. Sight, scent, passions and her voice touched her as fierce and comforting as her precious girl had. Elaina let the tears stream as the ghosts of love spoke and danced round the room, their room. Her eyes slowly opened, she slowly allowed herself to look at the wall. That wall. The one Shari put the pictures on last fall, one kiss at a time.

“Baby girl, why is there one lone photo in the corner of my bedroom wall?” Elaine asked with all the curiosity she could muster, she didn’t like the asymmetry at all but she could endure almost anything for her. Shari did things like this all the time; strange little projects that mean so very much to her, to them both if she was allowed to finish them.

Shari had the brightest smile and her voice was clear as a lone sparrow on a crisp spring morning. It shouldn’t have been that way but she had strength she should have never possessed, “It is my gift to you, Ma’am. I can’t go until it’s done… It… it’s a photo gallery of every place I can remember telling you I love you. Can we go to each place? So I can kiss you every place I’ve ever wanted to… and finish the wall before winter?”

Right in this very spot she cracked, broken, and pleading on her knees with the cosmos to let the two of them cover every wall of their home with photos, inside and out… She wanted so much more time… Elaina wrapped her arms around Shari’s hips and held on lest she disappear right then. Elaina hated her for a moment. Hated her acceptance of fate and loved that her last wishes were going to haunt Elaina every day for the rest of her life.

But looking at the photos now…

She could let go of what was and hold on to the love she felt that day, in this spot.

“Thank you Babygirl.”

Always.

 

[Nyte_mare]

Halloween night...

All Hallows Eve...

A night for children. A night for dress up and costumes. A night for candy and treats. A night for ghosts and goblins. Monsters and witches.

She felt a bit out of place among the myriad of kids roaming the neighborhood. But of course, she would. She was not a kid. And she had no kids. Yes, she was dressed up, perhaps one could say, in costume, if one wanted to call what she wore, a costume. It was currently hidden beneath the long leather coat she wore. She had not wanted to alarm the kids, or more importantly, their parents. None noticed that her feet were bare, a rather odd thing on a cool, October night.

The neighborhood was bustling. Kids dashing hither and yon.

Slowly, she made her way down one street, a right onto the next, a left at the corner. She paused to glance up at the street sign. This was it. Elm Street. And before you even ask, yes, the horror movie had come to mind. Of course it had, how could it not. They had laughed about it, when chatting online, and when chatting on the phone. Given her screen name was Nytemare, it was even funnier. A nightmare on elm street, how quaint.

But, this was where he lived. This was his address.

Why had she come to him? Instead of the other way around? Good question, very good question. It was easily answered. To take her out of her comfort zone. To get deeper into her head. To make her feel fear. To break her down. She could be in control in "her" comfort zone, her element, her home. This was all about taking control away. This was all about her giving up control.

This was all about her submission to him.

Why Halloween night?

Again that element of fear. And it was his favorite holiday. Enough said.

Elm street. She knew the number, and no, it was not 666. They had laughed about that as well.

Within a few minutes, that was all it took, she was standing before the small house. The lights were off, there were no kids visiting this house this night. Just her. She would be the only one ringing this doorbell.

A deep breath taken, she had to calm her nerves, they were getting the best of her. One step, another step, each time her foot came to the ground, she was a little closer to the door. Was he watching her? Perhaps from a window? She could have sworn she felt eyes on her, caressing over her, possessively taking note of every movement, every curve, every tendril of her dark hair, even tho she still had the leather wrapped around her.

As she came to the steps, there were 4 that took her to the porch, and the front door, the leather was gently, and slowly opened. He was watching, she was sure of it. The supple touch of softness as it slid off one shoulder, and then the other, descending in a heap of darkness to the ground behind her. Was she naked beneath? Goodness no. Often times, one was much more beautiful when not naked. He had told her that. When one could use a bit of imagination, when one was bathed in perhaps, silk, or satin, that just danced upon the skin, that accented beauty instead of hiding it.

No, she was not naked.

A long, soft, black gypsy skirt clung to her hips. The delicate material seeming to flutter down over smooth thighs, the skirt was nearly diaphanous, even tho it was black. Beneath the barest outline of her legs, and the simple fact that panties had been left behind. That indeed she was nude under that dark touch of silken skirt. Upon her torso, a white tank top, in spider web lace. Heavy breasts, tipped with peaked, dark nipples, clearly visible, yet tantalizing, embraced in the pure lace. The cool breeze only serving to heighten the arousal that was so easy to now observe.

About her throat, the grasp of leather, a collar, with the required hook for a leash. Each wrist embraced by a matching leather manacle, each ankle, the same.

This... was her "costume"...

At the top of the stair, she stops, going no further. Her motion changing. Fluid, graceful, she allows herself to descend, ever so slowly, as a dew drop would glide down the pristine surface of a leaf, to her knees. Again she has to pause to take a deep calming breath. She could feel her body trembling, and she fought to stay stilled. With a nearly silent whimper, she hoped he had not heard her, she settles back to her heels, letting her thighs part just slightly, inviting. Hands come to rest upon those thighs, back straight, her head up, yet her eyes are lowered.

Stay still... she admonishes herself. She could not let her nerves get to her. She would wait. Wait until the door opened. He knew she was there, she was sure of it. In the distance, perhaps a house or two down, she could hear the kids... Trick or treat. And the laughter that came with it.

But, a mere moment later, and all she could hear was the door as it opened. She so wanted to lift her eyes, but no, she would not. Focus, she whispered to herself. Focus on the ground before you.

But it was not the wood of the porch she was seeing anymore. It was boots, leather boots, his leather boots.

He stood there, for what felt like forever. She could feel his eyes, the heat, the stare. Yet he said nothing, he didn't have to.

Then, agonizingly slowly, those boots moved, walking around her. Each step deliberate, measured. She could hear his breathing, deep, controlled. She was doing good at keeping still, until she heard another sound. It was not much of a sound, but she heard it, and a second later, she saw it, the whisper of leather, falling, to drag along the wood of the porch. The tendril of a bullwhip.

She felt her heart suddenly begin to pound. The muscles in her belly tighten. Would he? Why? Had she done something wrong?

Again he circled her, this time, as he paused to her side, an hand slipped into the thickness of her dark mane of hair. Fingers entwining, head pulled back, her lips parting as she lets escape a gasping moan. He had surprised her, she had not expected to be touched out here, only if he accepted her and allowed her inside.

But the word slipped past her lips, it came from the very depths of her... "Master"... whispered.. hushed.

"my pet" was the answer. That voice she knew so well.

Her hair released, she feels the leather of the whip then, no it did not strike her. It did not seek to taste of her fear or pain, not yet. The slim leather tendril is snaked about her throat, gripped in hand, a makeshift leash, and she is tugged to her feet.

The door opened, and closed behind her..... the Master.. claiming his slave.

 

[BeautifulDream]

A layer of reds, yellows, and oranges covered the ground, coating it in a blanket of crisp leaves. Gone was the summer sun and in it's place was the chilled autumn winds. This time of the year was wonderful; the colors, the coolness, the people running around in a state of bliss, and especially the scents. It was easier to breath during the Fall; the brisk air far better than the hot, humid, still air that came before.

So why couldn't see enjoy it?

Because while fall brought beauty, it brought pain. Memories...

She watched as a girl and a boy, probably only around the age of seven, jump into a pile of freshly racked leaves, scattering them everywhere. Laughing as they rolled through them, waving their arms and legs up and down. Creating 'leave angels.' While it didn't work as well as with snow, at least this way they didn't get wet in the process. The bright colors of their coats and scarfs easily visible against the fall colors. Then the children stood up and ran out of her view, most likely going to ruin another pile.

Two more children filled their places only this time they appeared older - maybe twelve. She could see the resemblance between them and the others, both looking like older versions of the ones prior. They ran hand in hand, diving into the leaves. The girl laughed as the boy tossed leaves on her, trying to bury her beneath them.

As before, they were gone.

Two more appeared, sixteen this time. They were not dress in bright childlike colors, both wearing shades of tans and browns. They didn't run, they walked slowly, his arm draped over her shoulders in a soft embrace. They didn't jump into leaves, instead they stopped before it, turning to face each other. She could see the budding love in their eyes. Then they kissed, a soft, timid kiss. Both unsure if they were doing it right. Both nervous. As they pulled away, each letting out a small chuckle. A first kiss. Once again, they faded away.

She expected another couple to appear but after a few moments they didn't. And she knew why.

That was the last fall the two spent together. The last chance they had to drop into a pile of tree petals. A childhood friendship. A new romance shared between two young hearts. Destroyed... broken by the accident. She turned away from the window, turned away from the memories. A small tear rolling down her cheek. Why did he have to be in that car? Why did he have to leave?

She had once cherished this season. She had once loved the reds, the yellows, the oranges. The chilled air. The scents. The people running around in a state of bliss. The beauty of Fall.

But now all she could think about were the memories.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Her Wish Book

Fall was one of her favorite seasons. After the heat and sun of summer, the cooler temperatures, the changes in the landscape, the thoughts of cold nights while snugged close to her beloved one, were more than welcomed. It was funny how different scents floated in the air as well as in the mind. Cinnamon. Sage. Pumpkin. Apples.

A sudden urge hit her and she scurried to the closet to find her camera. She wasn’t all that good at expressing her feelings by taking photographs, writing was her talent, but she felt the urge to try. Insuring there was fresh film in the camera, she bundled up warmly and headed out into the world beyond her home to see if she could see things with an eye toward expressing her desires to him.

Fall leaves scattered along a fence. She paused. More of them piled up under a tree and she could imagine a moment of impromptu silliness and mischief he was capable of pulling on her. His arms suddenly surrounding her waist, tugging at her as he swung her down and into the pile of leaves. The weight of his body bearing her down. The soft moan that emitted from her lips and was just hushed enough for his ears alone. Her laughter mingling with his until their eyes met and something more sparked between them. Her arms sliding around him, hugging him, holding him tightly to her. His hands would tug her sweater upward enough that he could slide his hands against her skin as his mouth found hers briefly before sliding away across her cheekbone, down to her jaw and finding a place against her neck. He could so easily make her forget where they were. Make her think only of him. Of this moment when sharply, she felt the need to be a part of him. The simple need to feel their harsh breathing mingle. To feel their hearts beat strongly against each other. To whisper, with urgency… to beg… him to make love to her, right there and then.

Another shot. She smiled from her view through the camera’s window. Walking hand in hand. Fingers intertwined. Her head against his shoulder. A soft squeeze of fingers. Leaves rustling at their feet as they walked. A moment of intimacy. Of tenderness.

The simple smell of apple cider as they stop along their walk and he purchases a cup of hot coffee for her and a croissant. A mug of hot cider with a cinnamon stick for himself. He joins her, sitting beside her, shoulders touching as he slides the croissant in front of her.

“Eat. You need to.”

Tender reminder in his voice. She broke off the first piece and held it to his lips. Her acknowledgement of his tender care and forethought.

Her film was rapidly being used up and she had barely begun. No matter. There would be other days and more film. This was going to be her gift to him when December rolled in and gifts abounded. She’d call it, “My Wish Book For Us, Things I Want To Do With You.”

She could only hope he would take her up on them.

 

[yeishia]

She saw the autumn collage in a magazine, the page riveted her attention.

The woman stared intently as if frozen in time as her mind’s eye touched every image,

lovingly, with a longing she had never expected to feel.

She was satisfied with her lot in life.

Choices made, destiny mapped out.

She smiled softly at the images.

Places she would never visit.

Things she would never experience.

Shared memories perhaps of time spent with a special someone,

one that she was never destined to actually meet.

Firmly she closed the magazine and resolutely turned her head away.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Sojourn

The leaves crunch beneath her booted feet~an announcement to the general area that she has arrived. She is here, right now, in this place. She feels at a loss. She doesn't recall the actual route she walked to reach her destination. That is normal, for this time of the year. She travels under a coating of bland, blind willfulness.

If she doesn't think about it, that means it didn't happen.

The late afternoon shines down between the limbs of the old oak tree that guards the entrance to this particular piece of ground. Part of her wants to enter, to get it over with, to be done with this whole charade for another year. The rest of her~ the sane part~ wishes to go home and get a phone call telling her this is just a bad dream.

Of course, this is real life, not a fairy tale.

She steps just inside the wide gate and pulls in the scent of autumn. Crisp leaves, brisk wind, the scent of apples. Her brain whirls. This scent is a clarion call, proof that she is here, again. Proof that the journey has been made and there is nothing left to do but finish the walk, finish the sojourn.

The tears begin just as soon as she sets foot to the path.

Memories, like a wave, drown her with scents, sights, words, thoughts, wants, needs.

October.

The scent of hot spiced cider.
Home made apple wine.
Husky laughter as the one who is loved above all others giggles out directions on HOW to rake up a leaf pile.
A voice whispering secrets and telling tales deep into the late autumn evening.
The smell of cigarettes, burning in the crisp cool air.

She is bowed beneath the deluge, her heart and brain screaming out at the sheer heavy weight this trek causes.

She does not want to do this.

It needs to be done.

Finally, another smaller gate. Carved into the marble is one word.

Mommy

No dates given. None are needed. Those who know this woman, know when she was born, know when she left. Dates are an addendum that only makes it more real.

Next to that piece of marble is another. One word marks it as well.

Monza

Gone for far longer, yet the pain of that particular passing is just as hard as the first one. Two of the most important people in her life~gone. From leukemia, from a heart attack. Gone.

She kneels before those words and bows her head, knees causing the leaves to crunch and shift beneath her. Tears water that spot, just there.

All is silence in this season of change.

And eventually~the silence pulls the pain away until she can breathe.

Once that happens? She cleans out the urns, places her flowers and rises with a whispered, "I love you."

And then? She turns and walks away.

Leaving her family behind in their mausoleum.

Until the next visit.

 

[fr33ks33k]

The memories of Autumn leaves are always on my mind, and everyone else's too. It's far and few between when people do not crave the fall. The chill breeze, return of sleeves and jeans that don't cut off at the knees. The time for pumpkins, carved and otherwise, for family time and lullabies and long brisk walks that crunch and leave a distinct scent and feeling behind. The place where Summer sleeps and Winter wakes in stages like a hibernating bear. The hours when day becomes the evening well before we're used to, when the twilight hours seem the longest, and the strongest. It's a season full of change, of shift, of moving to and fro and back again until we don't know which way is up in this pile of decay. But what a glorious picture it paints in reds and golds and yellows fading fast from springtime greens, from all that once had seemed so fleeting. It is here that we make demands, take stands, go forth into the promise of snow and frostbite with our heads held high. Let the autumn come, let it wrap me in a blanket made of crumpled leaves, let it bathe me in the fading light of morning, let it cleanse me of the sweat that Summer brings. Let it sing to me the story of a welcome respite from all our toils. Let it prepare me fully for what is to come. Autumn brings on melancholy, but also imparts hope; it reminds us of the passing and of the coming, of nature taking course and...that we all have leaves that must be shed, like tears fallen for our losses. And only when we've sloughed our burden can enjoyment of this season fall upon us.

 

[Britwitch]

This challenge is now closed to new submissions.

Huge thanks to all who participated!



The comment and review thread will remain open for people to discuss these awesome submissions... *hint hint*

November's challenge will be up and running very soon...​