The Beginning of the End

Cyranny's Cove photo of a the booted feet of a person standing in wet autumn leaves on the ground.

For most people in the United States, Fall unofficially begins the Tuesday after Labor Day. 

But not for Bree.

For her autumn truly began in mid-November nearly two
months after its official start.

By mid-November, the many trees that line her street reach their peak orange,
red and yellow colors. And each year, a week or two before Thanksgiving without
fail, it happens: the last hurrah of the hurricane season. While usually not
worthy enough to be graced with a name, it is a storm strong enough that the colorful
jewels of the trees are mercilessly flung to the ground.

Bree will step out onto her yard where seemingly overnight it is littered
near slick with the torn wet remnants of color that once graced the trees. She’ll
look upon the many gnarled branches left clawing at the shortening hours of
gray daylight. Then, and only then, does she feel it is autumn at last.


Written for Cyranny’s Cove, November 17th #1MinFiction Challenge

What’s the ”One Minute Fiction” challenge about?

Each week Cyranny provides a prompt to inspire one to write a very short story. The idea being to type the whole story in a minute or less. Of course, you can think about it before hitting the keyboard, and you can take all your time to edit it afterwards…

This week’s prompt is the photo above.

So? What do you think?

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