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Ksenia Anske

September 18, 2014

Another short story, about autumn

by Ksenia Anske


Photo by Joel Robison

Photo by Joel Robison

Photo by Joel Robison

Photo by Joel Robison

This is ridiculous. I was tired and I tried to nap. I put my head on the pillow. I heard crows cry in the street. I started seeing this picture in my head, reached for the phone, typed in one sentence. Put it away. Tried to nap again. No luck. The story started developing in my mind. I couldn't stop it, dammit! So now, no nap, but here is the story.

CROWS.

Crows are autumn. The sign of autumn. Their "cra-cra-cra" and then another "cra" like a period at the end of a sentence...hanging in the air. And the colors. The burned sienna. The fire of maples. The cold sun. You'd think it would warm your face, but it's only there for show. 
     The damp chill after the rain. Puddles glistening like mirrors. 
     "Cra-cra-cra," go the crows. 
     "Shhh, I hear you," goes the wind. 

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TAGS: autumn, fall, short story, flash fiction