Autumn leaves swirl in the lightest of autumn breezes, fluttering and dancing to the tune of autumn skies
Autumn leaves swirl in the lightest of autumn breezes, fluttering and dancing to the tune of autumn skies. Red, yellow, brown, orange. Orange, orange, orange. The breeze picks up, and they spin faster, fasterfaster. Higherhigherhigher. A footstep. They fall. And anotherbreezebreathoflife, and they dancetothetuneofhope. Until winter comes, and snow falls.
It's not orange.
It's white.
White is an extreme. A nothingeverythingcoloursmeldintowhiteandblack. No life, no movement. Buried, suffocating. NothingandEverything.
A spring breeze. Soft. Warmth. Calm.
It finally finallyfinally comes.
No white.
No black.
No nothing, no everything.
Only something.
Something is always what's just enough.
Autumn.
Spring.
Winter.
Summer.
Again.
Again.
Um. Writer's block does bad things. So does crashing computer files.