Leaves in the wind

Sean Miller

A Short Story

It had been a late autumn day. I had spent all day inside my small one bedroom apartment, I was at a standstill. My art project was due tomorrow and I haven’t even started on my rough sketch. I knew I had the potential of it, but how could I bring beauty into such an ugly world? I decided on sketching my window. Then I looked in awe at the familiar trees outside. They’re so beautiful, so colorful, and so vibrant. Not the same old shade of green. It flowed with the brilliant mix of colors.
Red, like the bright red apples on the trees, so smooth and in bloom. Thinking of the perfect taste they’ll have; it makes my mouth water. Yellow, like the warm bonfire hitting your face in the cool fall breeze at night. A handful of people gathering around to tell their stories of those departed and stories of their amazing lives. Brown, like the warm and toasty pumpkin pies, fresh made by Grandma, at the family get together. As they lay cooling over the windowsill, you can hardly wait to get a slice. Lastly Orange, the color that represents those spooky little fruits that lay atop on porches, front lawns, and at festivals. That fruit is the mighty pumpkin; I saw them piled against the grass. A smile lit up in my face as I remember the days when I would carve a pumpkin. Seeing how nature has made the fall into something so beautiful; this is remarkable.
I felt the chilling wind pick up and brush the leaves away. I just stared at them as they flew across the land and downwards. I closed the window and sat back in my desk, I pulled out my art poster and took a deep breath and softly whispered,
“Leaves…blowing in the wind. Yeah, I like that.” I started to sketch; I knew this would make it.

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