Apples in Autumn

Day 46: March 22 (written)

Autumn leaves crunch under his feet. Their aging kin flutter in a gentle breeze, a tableau of gold and yellow. A tart aroma of apples is born by the breeze, rustling his hair and tempting him in a new direction. Rather than the orchard he feared would be there, it is only a wild grove, an orchard long abandoned, grown round in lazy circles. Red robust apples burn through the leaves, ripe for wanderers.


Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.


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