Autumn Rain

A Story by Spotted Hyena

This is the story of a girl who thought she could stop the seasons.

Leaves lay on the ground in bright reds and oranges, like a dormant fire. The tree outside my house was skeletal without its covering of leaves. I felt cold just looking at it, silhouetted against a milky white sky. I picked up a leaf, found a low-hanging twig, and wrapped tape around the two. The leaf hung by its stem from the twig, a spot of red in a colorless scene. Excitement flickered in my chest, and I picked up another leaf.

One by one, I taped the leaves back on the tree. Slowly, it came back to life. When I had covered the branches I could reach on the ground, I grabbed a handful of leaves an climbed higher. I held the leaves gently in my teeth and the tape in my pocket. I attached the leaves and climbed down for more. My fingers were raw, red, and splintered, but my job was not done. At least the cold numbed the pain.

A cold wind blew through my coat and scattered the leaves. "No," I gasped. I ran after the leaves, putting them in my pockets. I rescued all the stragglers, but the running left me exhausted. As I leaned against the tree, panting, my breath puffed in the air like smoke from a train.

I climbed higher, my legs shaking from exhaustion and fear of the height. I felt dizzy when I looked down, but I pushed the feeling to the side. I was almost out of tape, so each leaf was attached with less and less. Then I ran out. Growling with frustration, I let the empty roll drop to the ground. I picked up the rest of the leaves so the wind wouldn't blow them away. Then I stared up at my handiwork. The wind rustled through the bottom half of the tree, which was covered with leaves. It whistled through the top branches.

Exhaustion swept through me and I curled up on the ground, underneath the tree. Despite the wind, the cold, and the strange sounds, I fell asleep.

I woke up to a tickling sensation on my face. I brushed off a leaf. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and opened my still-heavy eyelids. When my eyes could focus, I saw that half of my hard work was scattered around me, the colors dulled. Pieces of tape dangled pathetically from the branches. A few leaves still clung stubbornly to the branches, though some twirled precariously in the wind. Tears burned behind my eyes as I sat up. I shivered, and the tears traced cold rivers down my face.

I ran inside when the wind picked up, driving rain into my face. Then I sat by the window with a cup of tea and watched the rain knock down every leaf. A spot of red remained, then it was gone. Water from my wet hair dripped into the porcelain mug, causing ripples that soon settled. The still surface reflected my face. I closed my eyes and exhaled.