For this reason, I bow my knees before the Father, [to be continued]
I wrote nowhere near my goal of 40 stories today. In fact, I wrote a grand total of 6 stories. Here are some of them.
Fall in New England
Yellows, reds, golds litter sidewalks. Greens from pale to deep cling precariously, rustling. Trees aflame yet not afire brightened beneath sunny rays; sparks flicker, flying with the wind’s gusts. They swirl, unextinguished, burning brightly in bonfires gathered in walls’ lees, cyclically transient beauty. Break out the leafblowers.