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Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #1329824
A story about fall, change, crayons and leaves
Abby always loved crayons. They were here favorite "toy" growing up. Even now at 37 years old she always made sure there was a box in the house, with a coloring book and sketch pad. It didn't matter that she did not have any children, nor that she chose not to have any, in her mind coloring was not a juvenile activity. Instead coloring was her way to escape anxiety on any given day. All you really have to do is stay within the lines. An activity that is much simpler than most things in life.

Today Abby walked her dog Cody through the fall leaves, stopping every few feet so that he could take a good sniff of the crisp air or some other scent that was probably only pleasant to a dog. She relished these walks as they gave her time to think. Today her thoughts were on fall and the new box of crayons she had purchased earlier in the day. What used to be a simple venture - one box of 64 Crayola crayons in a box with a sharpener in the back had become more complex over the years; as had most everything else.  It took her 20 minutes looking at the array of washable crayons, twistable crayons, special crayons and even erasable crayons before she settled on a box of 96 crayons with a sharpener in the back. As she made her purchase she sighed, even crayons had become complicated.

Coming out of her thoughts and back to her surroundings Abby realized she was further from home than she thought. She turned Cody around and headed for home. Now, paying more attention to the nature around her, she could hear the newly fallen leaves crunch under her feet. She was happy for the crispness in the air and sound of the town football game off in the distance. This was her home. She grew up in this town and felt comfortable here.

Nearing home now, Abby wondered if she felt a connection to fall because that was when she was born. "Who knows," she thought, "I just like it". As she started up her walkway she noticed the slightly frostbitten summer flowers she had yet to take out of the garden, and the patio chairs that needed to be put away.

"Not now" she thought, "now I am going to go inside, make a cup of tea, and color"

As she walked, she stated thinking about the seasons and how fall was her favorite time of year. It always seemed to be a time of gathering for her -- a time to back to things of the home and the heart after a summer of frivolity and dashing around. She needed to make sure that she was prepared for the winter ahead. Just last week she was pulling out her winter clothes, making sure her crafts were lined up for the winter and that she had a long list of books waiting to be read. For Abby fall was like spring was for many. It was a starting place, and why not? For so many years something new started every September. The ends always came in June when school let out. The beginnings were always in the fall.

Why then did all of this feel in such opposition to the world around her Abby wondered? Just when everything seemed to be scattering; summer friends heading home; leaves falling, gardens being dismantled, she was feeling more gathered together than any other time of the year? Even more than springtime, fall was the time for newness in her life. Abby always bought her new box of crayons in the fall.



WORD COUNT: 615

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