I thought I left you in the summertime with the foxgloves we planted in the backyard by the fence. Our hands, together, in thick flower beds should have been the end of it,  the end of the memories, but autumn, with its cold heart, has given you back to me in the most painful way.

This season has cast you in light and shadows. I catch you in the sky, which in its wild confusion, has become the same dark grey of your eyes. I gaze at the warm blues and tangerines that soak into the city and find you sitting by the window, making watercolour soak into canvas. I slip my hand in my coat when the nights are wet and feel you. I breathe into the frigid air when the nights are cold and hear you. The silence of this season makes your voice so clear.

I want you gone. Why must you follow me to the fireplace and to the woods and the lake?

This morning, when raindrops still pearled the grass, I watched a ghostly mist crawl down the mountainside and through the forest and I thought it was bringing you to me. I think this way these days.

Are you the sparrow that waits on the dying branches of the oak outside our window?
Or the gentle sound of rain flowing off the eaves?
Are you the pale bits of light struggling through the clouds?

If so, stay. Autumn has given you back to me in the most beautiful way.

 Somewhere in the space between life and death, a man waits under the oily light of a streetlamp with a palette knife. As night falls,  he takes a paintbrush and remakes the world. He paints memories into that liquid space called nature with colours she would recognize. He makes the skin of the lake an icy white. He layers the sparrow’s voice with bright tones. He colours the maple leaves with reds as deep as his love.

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Preston Randall
Preston Randall(@preston-randall)
8 months ago

This is a beautifully descriptive story packed with emotion. I enjoyed many, many of the images described, but perhaps my favourite part was the entire final paragraph, and the line: He paints memories into that liquid space called nature with colours she would recognize. Brilliant!

Margarida Brei
Margarida Brei(@margarida-brei)
8 months ago

Anne, welcome to Voice.Club. Your writing is full of a deep mysticism and beauty. I loved the lines-“raindrops still pearled the grass.”
“liquid space called nature.”

Linda Rock
Linda Rock(@linda-rock)
8 months ago

You have captured how we feel, so descriptively, when coming to terms with the loss of a loved one, Anne. Feelings of pain mixed with joy, imagining their presence in familiar settings. The ending is superb. Beautifully written.

Sandra James
Sandra James(@sandra-james)
8 months ago

Welcome, Anne! Wonderful description and, like Margarida, I loved when raindrops still pearled the grass. We had rain here yesterday (Australia) and that’s a perfect description! Then, like Linda, I thought the ending completed your story perfectly. Well done  ? 

Lotchie Carmelo
Lotchie Carmelo(@lotchie-carmelo)
8 months ago

Welcome to voice club, Anne. Your first story is well-packed with different emotions. Very moving. I really enjoyed it, especially the last paragraph. Well done.

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