SPARK

BR Belletryst
Fallen
Inspiration piece

An incomplete story
By Urmilla Khanna
Response

The sheaths of fallen leaves rustled under her feet. The weather was balmy, and yet there was a chill in the air. There was a hint of a soft breeze, enough to stir the damp earth and bring out its freshness. It was neither day nor night, a transparent misty gray that promises another day.

She walked slowly, feeling her way through the woods. She knew there was a path somewhere beneath her feet. She had to test it with her shuffling gait. She stumbled on the bulging root of a tree. She looked up. The majestic maple was stark naked. The trunk, the limbs, the far reaching peripheral branches all stood in sharp relief against the silver moon in the dusty sky. She blushed.

It was the harvest moon.

Night was leaving. Day would soon manifest itself.

There was a solitary leaf afloat in a puddle, fluttering. Had it gone astray? She picked it up. She sat on the garden bench twirling the leaf and admiring the miracles of nature; the myriad colors in that single leaf.

They were the colors of her life, brilliant hues of orange and gold and crimson enmeshed amidst the fading pastels.

It will be just another mundane day for her. She will await another winter and then spring. She will wait…..