An Autumn Day

Autumn painted the world in a delicious red. Like a farewell to summer, like a welcome to winter, the streets were celebrating with all their might. It would have always been like this. The fact that she noticed it now made her smile a bit. Not having known this beauty was almost ashamedly sorrowful. Opening her chest, she deeply inhaled the bright atmosphere. A clean coolness went through her and sailed out as a small white fog.

She hadn’t liked autumn. Even if autumn’s chilly hand had only stroked her she had to spend a week with thick cotton blankets and the one o’ clock revealed secrets. That hadn’t changed much. But now, every single thing was heart-wrenchingly precious. The fact that autumn, once her most hated season, was now this delightful was laughably sad. Shaking her head once she moved her wispy feet.

Her gaze climbed up to the sky. With the exception of one slow child-cloud, the sky was far and blue. A brisk wind swept by her and led the child-cloud by the hand. It made her want to clap. Instead, she just hid her mouth behind her hand and chuckled. She wished she could etch that moment some other place than her head. Her memories weren’t going to last.

One corner of the street, a pile of fallen leaves was piled up. On one childish thought, she laid down her foot on the pile. Crackle, it sounded pleasant, like a soft percussion. Delighted, she started to play a well-known beat. One-two-three, two-two-three. What was the music playing in her head? She carefully recalled her memories. Tired of the endless tears and slaps, one day she had turned on the old radio. That was the one, the one that caught her attention and made her stop fiddling the dial. The genteel voice had said that the composer of that piece had died young. A wave of sorrow filled her, and she stepped back onto the sidewalk. A person who made such beautiful music should have lived long.

A different sort of shine made her look around. Ah, a sigh went through her lips. The sun was setting. Blue, red, the boundary dazzlingly white, the sky was decorating itself for coming night. Suddenly she craved to hold a brush in her hands. After three years of pointless trying and finding out she had no talent, she had given up on art. She was willing to give anything for talent then. She shouldn’t have thought that, they did say a wish comes true in the simplest form.

Looking once again at the sight she wanted to leave on canvas, she raced down the road with feathery footsteps. The tree next to the cold gray building would have also been painted in a lovely shade of red.

#fiction #sarahyoon