Autumn Stories-- Day 3 and Day 4

Day three:

I love this poem and the picture it paints. I also adore the author.

An Autumn Evening

by

L.M. Montgomery

Dark hills against a hollow crocus sky

Scarfed with its crimson pennons, and below 

The dome of sunset long, hushed valleys lie

Cradling the twilight, where the lone winds blow 

And wake among the harps of leafless trees 

Fantastic runes and mournful melodies. 

The chilly purple air is threaded through

With silver from the rising moon afar, 

And from a gulf of clear, unfathomed blue

In the southwest glimmers a great gold star 

Above the darkening druid glens of fir 

Where beckoning boughs and elfin voices stir. 

And so I wander through the shadows still,

And look and listen with a rapt delight, 

Pausing again and yet again at will

To drink the elusive beauty of the night, 

Until my soul is filled, as some deep cup, 

That with divine enchantment is brimmed up.

 

 

 

Day Four

This is more of a journal entry than fiction. This happened yesterday at lunch:

 

Like many autumn mornings, it was a sleepy day. It was forty-five minutes past ten, and most of us had already been up for five hours. We were drooping over our lunches before us on the table. The cafeteria buzzed with conversation, but it was nowhere near as loud as usual. We were all too sleepy to be loud.

"It must be Monday," sighed my friend beside me.

"It is," I replied, playing with the button on my sweater. I gazed out the window. It was peaceful outside, with a sky bluer than I've ever seen before. Leaves fluttered by in the breeze. Inside, it was pretty quiet, too. The sign-ups for different clubs-- the chess club, the karate club, etc.-- was going on in the corner. All the club members were standing by their table with displays, practically begging for new members.

Suddenly two boys who had been standing near the table gave a shout. One was a lanky boy with blonde hair and dark, thick eyebrows. He had been shoved in the chest by the other, a thicker boy with a crew cut. The blonde one lunged back at him, knocking him to the ground. They rolled across the floor, snarling and clawing at each other like dogs. Fists and feet flew, and didn't seem like they were even touching the ground as they both struggled to gain the upper hand. My friends and I watched wide-eyed.

At first I thought it was acting-- probably they were part of the theatre club, looking to attract new members. Wait-- there's blood-- that's not acting-- there's no blood when there's acting--

"Hey!" It was Coach T., bellowing and running at the same time. "Break it up, boys, break it up!" They did not "break it up." Coach pulled them apart with some difficulty, shoving the blonde one backward and yanking the other up by his shirt collar.

"John!" a girl screamed, rushing between them. I learned later that she was the reason they were fighting-- it was ex-boyfriend drama, or something of the sort. She had been standing over them while they were attacking each other, yelling for them to stop. Now she ran to the darker, shorter one and stood facing Blondie with a glare.

"What happened here?" asked Coach.

"It was him-- he shoved him first-- it was all him!" she pointed at the blonde one, who gazed back defiantly. His dark eyes flashed like lightning, moving back and forth between the coach and his opponent.

"To the office, all of you." Blondie turned and stalked out, unashamed. The other two followed. The silent cafeteria became abuzz with conversation once again. Three of my friends returned to our table with their lunch tables.

"Did you see that?" I asked.

"No, what'd we miss!?"

So. I've seen my first real fight. It was very exciting!

Got to go. I'll do Day 5 tonight!

--Rebecca