I was welcomed back to the embrace of autumn as I ambled out of Riverstone’s school gates. Skeletal branches on trees swayed while carrying rustling, cloud-like bundles of terracotta leaves, dancing to inaudible music without much of a care. The gleaming sun had begun to sink and return to the underworld, leaving remnants of marigold and tangerine streaks in the fiery twilight.
Like leaving a trace of yourself as you leave.
Soaring birds were fluid lines gliding effortlessly through the sky, cutting the clouds, flitting from tree to tree. They made those fluffy cream lines across the sky— like painting a work of art on a layer of gold.
“Bye, Phobester!” Elisa calls, her lustrous, long hair twirling behind her as she spun. “Be sure to send me the homework!”
“Like hell I’m gonna do that.” I scoffed to the air, because she already scampered off.