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.
College Bound: Part 1
Begin with birth, watch through walking, words, wondering. Learning forced and desired, leading to success as some measure. Back patting, hand shaking, an inscribed diploma, a high check to an unknown distant future. Labeled boxes neatly circumscribe years, bellied up to the new years: suitcases, packed full. College bound.
College Bound: Part 2
Winging without flapping, the move afar traced circles within squares below. Lakes, oceans, land: a vast continent spreading beneath, 500 miles in an hour. Swallowed in an undigesting metallic belly, two black bags (“Warning: Heavy”) hold future within themselves. Shirts, books, pants, hopes, dreams. New life, new person: College bound.
College Bound: Part 3
Water rushes up below, a disjunction to extended wheels. Yet extended landing gear grip solid ground—solider ground than the next months. A flurry of spending, a briefly organized desk counterpoint to the confusion of new faces, names, details. Next door, across and down the hall, layers of people.