The leaf was brown, brittle, rough around the edges. He lifted it tenderly from the skirt which pooled in Rose’s lap. He had already forgotten the words they just shared, allowed them to vanish into the breeze.
He offered her the leaf. “Time’s changing.”
She took it from him. The rough edge chafed her finger, which she touched to her tongue.
A gust shook more leaves from their branches.
He took her fingers into his and asked if she was sure.
She nodded, withdrew her fingers, and allowed the changing wind to whisk her from him, the object of her frustration.
Noelle,
What I like about the micro-story you write is the parallel between the MC and the wind. The wind blows strongly to clear out areas for a fresh start. The woman is cleaning out her life by ending the relationship with her man. Nice parallel.
Thank you so much!
Love the analogy! And poetic as well.
Thank you, I really appreciate that!
Noelle,
I think that this is a truely amazing story! Wonderful job!!!
This is an amazing story! Wonderful job!
Love this metaphor for relationships and time and change.
Gone, ran its course, fall, dead.
Amazing job! You have a gift for this…keep pursuing it! Best of luck in your future writing!