Writer Wednesday

Hello, fellow writers!

Here’s today’s prompt:

prompt for writer wednesday

 

 

I’m still holding on. Nobody thought I would. After all, I was one of the smallest of the bunch. Everyone else in my family tree was robust, strong, and was able to hold on with all their might. That is, until the chill came.

 

Throughout the spring and summer, the sun shone bright every single day. It rained occasionally, too. Ah yes, those were the days. We never wanted for anything. We had everything we needed. Sure, we lost a few of our brothers and sisters here and there. Sometimes the winds came too fast and strong and would whip one of us right off. But that was nothing compared to now.

 

Now, the days were shorter. The skies were gray. The air was cold. And my family was dropping every minute.

 

A part of me was scared. I knew that I would be falling soon. But, I didn’t mind it so much. I knew that I had to let go of my branch so another could come after me. Besides, I had had a good, long life on my branch. I saw the rains in April, the flowers in May, the sunshine of June, the fireworks in July, the school buses making their rounds in September, and little ones trick-or-treating in October. I knew I probably wouldn’t last to see the bright lights of Christmas.

 

My great-great-great-grandpa saw them. He stayed around long enough to tell his son. And his son told his son. And so on.

 

Great-Great-Great-Grandpa was the smallest of his bunch too. Maybe there was a chance for me to see the lights. That’s what kept me going; the thought of seeing the lights. There were only about 50 of us left. It may seem like a lot, but when you consider we started out in the thousands, it really puts everything in perspective.

 

Yes, I was scared of fall, but I didn’t let it take my joy. I knew it was going to come eventually, but for now, I held tight. I took in everything around me. I watched the people work hard to rake their leaves into tidy bunches. I watched the mothers bundle their kids in jackets and scarves. And hoped upon hope that I’d see them trim their trees with the bright lights of Christmas.

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