Autumn Outside The Post Office Novels & Stories

"Way more than the one you have in Mother. If my wife says she has something handled, then I know she is going to handle it." "Perfect," Father answered. I knew what he might be thinking and the countless words running in his mind at this point, and actually he wasn't wrong for having that, but I also knew that we weren't losing it. I had that much faith in my wife. "We are here." My tire covered dry, crusty leaves when I drove in. The trees around were vibrant in color, signifying autumn.I stepped out first, with Father stepping out afterward as we made our way to the warehouse.

The Hollowing comes to me in the lane outside the cartographer's building on a morning when the light is doing its sharpest thing — the particular quality of autumn sun in a city that knows how to hold it, angled and amber and absolutely without sentiment about the cold it carries. I am alone.

Two years ago, Bristol. It was autumn, and the color of the leaves had turned orange as they slowly fell from the branch. The weather has turned cold, but the presence of the people you love might make it warmer. Ibrahim and Natasha were walking through the roads of Castle Parks, which is one of the best spots to watch the autumn scenery. It feels good as they are walking through maple trees surrounded by a sensory herb garden while intertwining their hands with each other. After arriving at the airport and leaving their luggage at the hotel, they come straight here.

I picked up my cream bucket bag from the bed. Then I stepped into the sitting room. It was just Mom there… Leo was probably in his room. A moment later, Isabella knocked and walked in. And just like that, we left. The moment we stepped outside… The air felt different. Cooler. Softer. Late September had settled in quietly, wrapping everything in that gentle in-between feeling autumn always carried so effortlessly. The trees along the street had started to change…leaves shifting into muted shades of gold, amber, and soft brown.

Morning had finally made itself as it sheds itself onto anything it made contact with. But this particular morning was different compared to other mornings. The atmosphere felt tense, suffocating, and overwhelming. In the lonely, quiet house of Micheal, sat Autumn, who waited patiently while clenching onto her cellphone waiting for a cue that her ride had arrived to take her to her destination. She wore a pair of jeans, black heeled boots, a marron long-sleeved turtle neck, a thick scarf wrapped around her neck, and a black jacket that covered her entire outfit.