Leaves

He had long grey hair, and torn clothes. By walking through the path, his rare curls were levitated by the wind, while his pale look was staring at the miscellaneous leaves. He lived a life, but leaves never change: they forever symbolize the never-ending circle of life, as they tear apart from the cradle of branches, then blossom at the fire of freedom, but die in an agony when fusing with the dark ground. Immortal freedom, by the price of loneliness. And the suffering, the long process, while the abyss swallows, burdens them with a lifelong contemplation. On each and every dry leaf there is a script carved by a shaky hand: do not leave me, I love you. The man grabbed a leaf, brought it home, and struggling with tears, placed among the hundreds of others.

He never forgot the girl who had left gim. He didn't know where she was, what was she doing, but he hoped she was happy. One day he didn't have more strenght to get up, his body was wrecked. An unexpected wind started to blow in the house, and a silhouette of a woman was formed from the leaves collected for decades. A familiar bright light was sparkling in her eyes, the memory lived in his memory forever young.

- I always loved you. - said the man.
- I know. - replied the woman bursting into tears.
- And I still love you. - he said in a pale voice.
- From now on we will be together for ever! - she smiled and the leaves exploded as his soul left his body.

***

This is the first short story from my book, which gives the theme based on this central motif. Each chapter presents a leaf which falls from the tree, the story of someones life.