World Walkers: Beshaki: Cillian: The Autumn Twilight

[kajones_writing]

Written for Livejournal user ysabetwordsmith’s prompt: Autumn twilight, the crisp air and the way the season smells.

Once his shift was finished Cillian always went for a walk. After spending ten hours in an office it was nice to be able to breathe the fresh air, especially as it was autumn and everything was beginning to smell earthy. He didn’t make it obvious, but he allowed himself to lift his feet a little less so he was kicking the leaves that had fallen, causing them to rustle. Each one of them was beautiful, whether they’d become fully black or had just darkened from their normal lilac. If a leaf stood out for any reason he reached down, picked it up, and put it in his pocket, because he pressed them at home to make Solstice cards.

All three moons were full, which didn’t happen often, so Cillian stopped at one of the benches that he often used during his journey home. He couldn’t help thinking of it as his bench, even though he knew it wasn’t. With his leaves in his pocket he stared up at the moons and breathed in the scent of autumn. It was something he couldn’t imagine living without, occasionally wishing he could see an autumn day or an autumn night, because all he knew was an autumn twilight. There were tales told of a world that only had one season, which seemed much worse than having to live in permanent twilight.

While Cillian sat, staring up at the moons, people walked past him. None seemed as enamoured with the world as he was and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad that so many didn’t see the beauty that was all around them. A leaf, all purple and black, drifted down to the ground in front of him, but was soon destroyed by the feet of the passers-by who only wanted to get to their home. He had trouble understanding them, because there was so much to see outside, and the autumn seemed so fleeting. It wouldn’t be long until the winter arrived, with its snow.

Cillian tried to make the most of every moment. Some days it was harder than others, but he knew that life was just as short, it its own way, as the seasons. There would be a day when he might no longer be able to enjoy the autumn, especially the scents and the sounds, so he was going to make the most of it while he could, even if that made him weird to everyone else. As far as he was concerned they were the weird ones for not seeing what was around them.

Breathing deeply Cillian drew the scent of autumn into his body. It was a scent that was unique every year and yet it was reassuringly similar. Soon it would be winter again, with the scents of autumn wiped away to be replaced with the cold scent that made him think only of the snow, so he planned to make the most of every moment he could, even if it was just by opening the window at work to let the autumn air in.

Mirrored from K. A. Jones Writing.

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[ysabetwordsmith.livejournal.com]

This is a beautiful mood piece! Now you have me thinking about scrapbooking with leaf images.

No typos spotted.