The Fallen Leaves Tell A Story Novels & Stories

The woman's smile faded. "You can see it now." Adrian looked upward. Only then did he notice. The highest branches were no longer white. Dark veins spread through them. Leaf after leaf turned black before drifting silently to the ground. "What happened?" The woman knelt beside the trunk. She placed one hand upon the ancient bark. "Someone has begun erasing stories..." "...faster than new ones can be born." A distant roar echoed beyond the horizon. The white sky trembled violently. One enormous branch snapped.

Another lie. How many more before everything falls apart?

How to pass on a story without becoming a monument yourself. As we stepped out into the crisp evening, the first few fairy lights on the trail winked on in the distance, a silent, steadfast promise. The story was over. The living—the deep, rich, complicated, and profoundly ordinary living—was all that remained. And for the first time, with the bronze lie growing salal in the town roundabout and the quiet hum of the hearth in our hearts, that felt not like an ending, but like a destination, finally reached.

Her senses just didn't coincide well with such an enjoyable moment. However, her eyes are still looking at the falling leaves. They seemed to be falling in a slow motion as though tempting her to admire at them and embrace the beauty that they brought. Finally, the ravaging noise stopped without her noticing. But she's still staring at the falling leaves one by one until there's only one left of it falling–a green one, just right in front of her. And then, a strong blow of air struck straight on her face, causing the messy streaks of her auburn to fall right behind her ears, making her want to close her eyes but she managed not to. It was like she's now enchanted by the falling green leaf.

She dropped the rotten apple to ground and quickly wiped her hand on her jean shorts. With her eyes directed downward, she watched as the lush grass and weeds around where the apple had fallen turned brown and stringy, as if they had baked under a sweltering summer sun for months without any rain to nourish them. Next, the leaves on the trees at the edge of the outcropping began to turn yellow and then brown. Right before her eyes, they shriveled up and fell from the branches, floating lifelessly to the ground as if it were late autumn instead of early summer.

P R O L O G U E The leaves rustled as power washed through them stripping them completely bare, their vibrant green color now fading into a dull brown. Shivani sighed as she held one of the leaves in her hand and it crumbled. Her mother was going to be mad at her again.

The leaves releasing because that was what leaves did and there was no apology in it. Things becoming, briefly and beautifully, exactly what they were about to stop being. She stood under the oak tree on the first morning of October and watched a single leaf release from a high branch and fall — not straight down, but in the long spiral that leaves fell in when there was no wind, the careful unhurried traversal of the distance between the branch and the ground, as though the leaf understood it had one descent and intended to take its time with it. She watched it fall all the way.

I wanted to smack my head against the rocky wall that I leaned against. “It’s more than horrible. I can’t love someone I can never have. Every Monday and Wednesday are simultaneously the best and worst days of my week.” I sighed, giving myself a break so I didn’t burst into tears. Ungluing my eyes from the stone wall, I traveled up to the sky. Fall was upon us now, which meant cold air and overcast skies. The atmosphere was grey and gloomy, the only color coming from the bright orange trees. I watched as a singular leaf detached from a tree and fell, swaying in the breeze before landing on the crisp autumnal grass. It wouldn’t be long before that leaf faded and became brittle, a mere memory

Judging from nature itself, only leaves which had become yellow and weak fell from trees willingly, but what fell to the ground and landed on their faces were still evergreen leaves, which seemed like someone forced them to fall from their source. Luke picked up one which fell on his shoulders, and holding it up in his left hand, he stared at the leaf with a wrinkled face and with questions which filled his mind, with his clear understanding of the laws of nature, he questioned the movement of the leaves on the tree. Richard looked up too as he was drawn by the movement and the sound he heard, looking up, he could hear some sounds being emitted from the trees. But straining his eyes and his

The ending of summer. The beginning of Autumn. Autumn leaves fall from the tree onto the wet slippery rock. Some of them rested on the surface of the lake beside the tree, flowing with the water, some rested on the slippery wet rocks under the shadow of the tree and some flew away with the flow of wind. The surroundings were colder and the wind danced around the long grass, trees, mountains, and people, making them shiver and stammer within their sentences.