Season

Autumn always foretold the coming ice, a fair warning to those bothering to pay any heed, and pay attention they did. Animals dove into burrows deep in the safety of nature’s heart and trees hardened to prepare, letting loose the leaves of yesterday to start anew after the Armageddon. Likewise, humans prepared in their own ways, taking extra care to furnish their homes and bundling up in extra layers to protect from the harsh weather. However, she had never associated herself with the chilling spell; after all, it never meant anything to her.

Telltale signs of a scowl imbrued her expression as near frozen fingers opened the window. How dare he have the gall to ask her what aggravated her when clearly, he should know? First impulses commanded her to disregard subtlety while her conscience begged to differ, and she relented to her pride and whim. After all, maturity did not suit her, not because she possessed none, but the stress of understanding even the belays of life were quite cumbersome. She blamed it all on him, but thanked him at the same time, and so their relationship through her viewpoint balanced on that precarious position.

She loathed him, but loved him. Tears cascaded because of him, but so did the euphoric smiles only he could coax from her. He knew her every thought perfectly as if they belonged to him and she hated that, but needed it all at once. He embodied her life, every nuance of color setting ablaze the dull greys of her world, the seasons of her universe, the fulcrum upon which her existence revolved. Whether a positive or negative influence, only the circumstances could tell, and even then, sometimes that remained ambiguous.

His reply to her heated statement forced an image of him staring with an exasperated expression into her mind. Normally, she would calm down and realize he tended to avoid blatant confrontations as much as she did, but the stresses of her life had heightened to an unbearable apex. She reasoned he would understand and take the time to explain everything in a direct way. Still, his answer remained cryptic.

Howls of the wind’s wolves splattered against the surface of the inner window and she shivered at its impact before reaching to close it. A quick glance with her eyes revealed dense clouds netted by indigo darkening with each passing moment. More bursts of humid air swept across the state and she still had yet to resume her chat with him. Soon, the rain let loose solitary droplets before quickening the rhythm to a surprisingly swift yet morbid tune. Her hand moved over the mouse and clicked the box in the upper right corner. Their conversation would never continue. Later, she knelt on her bed, tears running because of him for the last time as the storm pelted away the final remnants of the year, littering the earth with a splendor of copper rust melded within coffee and citrus. Not a hint of viridian hue remained after the purge. Every year the seasons changed whether she liked it or not, but this time she could not help but wish eternity would slow just for her.

I awoke to the dissonance of heavy rain, salt trickling down my cheeks, and staining the pillow. After minutes of shocked staring at empty space, a sigh of relief flitted from my lips. Only a nightmare. Settling back into the comfort of warm sheets, my eyes closed, thoughts resting on how I would deal with him and his vague ways. Suddenly, my brow furrowed, alarmed by how my heart had nearly gave in to my mind’s desire to scream and rant. However, sleep brushed any protest away with ease; I would think of a solution later. Outside, a single leaf dappled with crimson broke away, the first to fall in the coming days.

Autumn always foretold the coming ice, a fair warning to those bothering to pay any heed, but she never did learn how to fully open her eyes…

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This was written in the spring of last year, and was my rather puny attempt at exploring more capricious emotions. As always, critique is more than welcome.