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Writer's pictureKristin Bergene

Season’s End

Gentle waves that rode along the surface of the dark river swirled with haste. The rain from the last week had caused it to swell in its banks, cleaning the surface of the once mud covered rocks. The water glistened in what little sun was able to dot through the grey clouds that hung low over their heads. The world felt small here but she still resisted to think that they could be the only two left. Even though there wasn’t a sight or sound that could prove otherwise. Not that she would be able to hear it over his verbal thoughts.

He didn’t need her to hold a conversation.

She lay in the grass looking at the youthful green leaves that reached from the trees that encircled them. They turned silver in the strong winds, struggling to hold their stems. It was only early summer and fall was months from severing their natural bond at the season’s end. But they were only leaves. They couldn’t –

Thunder filled their quiet space again. Louder, closer and it clenched all the muscles in her stomach with its rumble. Startled breath escaped her lungs as she watched, but his eyes did not leave his work long to look at the sky. The clouds were changing again. That dark grey, to navy. The storm would find them again but this time they had no more to give. She looked at him as he turned the stone over in his palm.

“There’s no lightening yet.” 

xx, Kristin 

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