Prompt: Pick one of the five senses. Write a story about fall using ONLY that sense.
I lay in bed, eyes closed, listening.
The sounds were something I wanted to write a poem about.
I could hear the breathy wind murmuring gently through the trees. Father was raking up the leaves in the yard down below. I could hear Mother's pans rattling against each other in the kitchen.
Picket was snoring across the room. The house creaked gently as the wind grew stronger for a few minutes, and then slowed to its normal breeze. It would be a good day for flying kites later.
"Heather!" I heard Mother calling. "Time to get up, dear!"
Judging by Picket's very un-disrupted breathing, I'd have to wake him.
I waited for one more minute, until I heard the sound of a twig tapping against our window. Yes, it was definitely fall.
These were the sounds I heard every year. I loved them.