A Short Story : A Story?

The wind howled in the daylight.  Chills ran up my back.  That's how you know it is fall in New Jersey.   The leaves fell to the ground as they turned an ombre color.  “Come on!”, my mom shouted in frustration.

The cold of winter had finally given way to gentle temperateness, and the spring sun shone over the massive, perfectly manicured lawn, dappling its light through the leafy branches of the grand, towering oak tree. Elana Steinbach sat peacefully thereunder, sipping cool, sweet lemonade for the first time in months as she perused a book. The leaves danced in the cool breeze; the whole environment was quite tranquil. There was nothing like the first day of true spring, when one could at last escape the stale, heated air and enclosing confines of the indoors.

It was a bleak summer’s evening with the shadows deepening on a path that ambled down between bitternut hickory trees and then cut sideways across a field of tiny green grapevines. There was a wind beginning, small gusts that rattled the fence posts and set the dandelions dancing in unison on the broad expanse of lawn. Rain spotted our shirts and glistened on our nylon backpacks.

The air is crisp and the leaves are changing, that’s how I know its fall. It’s Friday night, the stadium lights are on and we’ve just scored a touchdown, you can hear the cheerleaders chanting, the crowd shouting, and the band playing the George Wythe fight song. The air is chilly; it’s perfect for oversized sweatshirts, fuzzy boots, and pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks. These are the simple, beautiful things about

Scrambling to her feet, Autumn darted into the chilly twilight air and felt the human slipping off of her like a snake shedding a skin. At once the smells hit her, the wet dirt, the bird sitting in a tree 200 yards away, the worker laying in one the tiny blue tents of the camp site. She felt empowered with her senses heightened and she stood majestically for a minute in the middle of the tents, taking in the rich forest smells. Then she loped off into the trees, breaking into a gallop. Strength surged through her muscles and she felt as if she could go anywhere and do anything. She closed her eyes for a moment to feel the wind rustling through her fur and the muddy ground race beneath her feet...and then she hit a

One windy autumn day she dropped her purple, floral hat out of her window. She watched as it flew to the mysterious woods. She had no other choice but to go and chase the hat. She slipped her cloak on and went out to retrieve her favorite clothing accessory. She headed toward the forest the feeling of anxiety and dread filled her body.

It may have been a little windy, but that was expected considering it was the middle of October. There were leaves; so many leaves. All the different colors of the trees in the distance made the moment so much more entrancing, especially the view right ion front of her. Even the smell of the contrasting circus foods was tolerable when she explored his eyes. To her, they seemed like the only thing that mattered. She just wanted to get closer. She wanted to-

Feeling the soft breeze grasp her fingertips, and rustle the leaves beneath her feet she knew.

It was the beginning of December and the cool breeze from autumn was drifting away. The sun was shining brightly and you could feel the warmth on your skin. The colorful leaves were falling all around, as Cara was walking home with Trevor from a long day at school. Trevor dropped her off at her house and then wen across the street to where he lived. When she got to the house her mom was doing laundry.

I sat on a bench in the middle of the park, enjoying the first day of autumn. I wore jeans with knee-high boots and a sweater I had been dying to wear since I bought it. Bright leaves covered the ground, making the whole park seem as if it was glowing orange. I listened to my audio book, The Runaway King, as I enjoyed the autumn air.

Now the ramshackle dwelling is a place people say seeps dread. A spot where the sun isn’t quite as bright, the dust oppressive, and the teeming, yellowed weeds that camouflage its former glorious gardens are ragged and

Autumn had just commenced so the leaves began to change from stunning lime green to a beautiful golden yellow. The wind furiously blew everything in its course without remorse. Although windy, the weather was unexpectedly warm. The sun’s rays were almost blinding in the cloudless pellucid blue sky. Yet, despite this delightful weather I could not help but feel uneased.

The dreary overcast brought in frigid gusts, a sign that August was slowly transitioning into the early September. Soon, the leaves would adjust to the slightly harsher winds and blossom into beautiful autumn hues. The weather was thought to be a continuous cycle; split off into seasonal sections, but it proved itself to be more than predictable- dangerous. Most danger is difficult to predict, whether it is an accident or something more life damaging- like homicide.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful “princess” by the name of Autumn. She gained this name thanks to her pale auburn hair, her smattering of freckles, and her birth season, fall. As a child, Autumn grew a fine woven crown intricately designed of thin vines, delicate flowers, and dainty leaves. As the seasons changed, her crown did too. In the summer her head was topped with an abundance of color from the vibrantly hued hibiscus, azaleas, and roses that bloomed there. As summer succumbed to fall, the flowers wilted and died, but the leaves, that intertwined with the flowers in the earlier season, grew larger and gave way to vivid reds, yellows, oranges, and purples. This was always Autumn’s favorite season, the colors

Spring had always been her favorite time of year. The budding blossoms gave off an undeniable fragrance, and the sky was so blue it seemed almost painted. It was the kind of sky that had Kelly lying on the ground pointing out the images of different animals and objects in the passing clouds.