September Seeps In..

During September I wrote some short story inspired by Lou Beach's 420 character short stories series. I found enjoyment in this as it reintroduced me to expressing my emotions within my writing.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Red Curtains

You called me Mable.
As the red curtains swayed you’d tell me stories of the old neighbors.
They used to play the accordion late at night. 				You laughed. You said it would drive mom crazy. 
A cloud of cinnamon stained the air as you flipped the toast.		 I missed her. I stared at the photo on the fridge. 				I saw the life in her eyes. Boundless beauty, frightening fearlessness. 
She left me with none. 

Wasted Love

We never did anything fun. 
There was that failed attempt last fall. We drove to see the colors. 
It was cold. Much how your touch had grown. 
We took my car because you didn’t want to “waste gas”. In reality I wasn’t worth the gas.
We argued the whole time. You were having sleepovers with girls. I was insecure. 
Your silence told it all. 
The wind was roaring as we stood outside. You used my blanket to stay warm. I shivered. 

                                                               Crunch

As September came to a close so did the blossoming leaves. 
One may wonder what a life of a leaf feels bound with such refined beauty.
It’s a simple one yet holds greater value than most.                                                               They sprout so greenly just to be steamed by the summer sun.
By late spring their green has faded to fiery flames. 
They wilt and sorrow one by one as they plummet to the ground. 
All that’s left is the crunch beneath you.