{Cookie} Wish to Fall
The fall is here, and the years have ripened.
Every year since I was fifteen, I make the same wish, on the same day, in front of this same tree. It is large, sprawling, the centrepiece of this park. I remember I first saw it when I was ten, and my parents brought us here for a picnic. There was spot of mossy green right under its branches - and while we ate and chatted, I remember feeling like the tree had a spirit that resembled my grandfather -- when I patted an exposed root and asked seriously if I could take a seat, I seemed to hear a chuckle in the wind, just like old Gramps sounded.
It is a hot summer morning, and the grass rustles underfoot, crackling as if threatening to burst into flame in the face of the unbearable heat. But a family, strangely enough, dares to brave this weather, laying a picnic mat and sitting down to enjoy a moment of repast. It is odd, the tree thinks, but they have a girl-child who is different. She does not run around boisterously like others do. She sits quietly on the root, and she thinks.
I liked that tree. I came back to it often. And one autumn, surrounded by the beauty of the falling leaves around me, I wished I could fall in love one day. It was a silly wish made on the spur of the moment because the leaves were just so pretty, and I suddenly had the urge to find something as beautiful as that. What was the most beautiful emotion, but love?
The leaves fall so quickly, and the tree is wistful. Soon it will be bald, though there is no shame in it, for the next season it will again be verdant in its glory. It is a cycle it knows well. But the reason for the puzzlement is the human girl standing just beside the tree, and the water running down her cheeks.
It was a very real fear, that I wouldn’t fall in love. And the fear turned out to be founded - I was much too practical, too attached to things aside from emotion, too unsure when it came to feelings. I had a series of let-downs - betrayals, lies, fears, were all my memory of relationships. The love I thought of - it might very well be impossible.
But still, every year, I’d make it a ritual to go to the tree, when the leaves are falling and the air is filled with autumn chill. As the wind blew, I’d think of the year, and the happy things that had happened, and I’d wish for a love that combined these happy things so I could share them with someone.
The woman clad securely in practical and comfortable garb leans with her back against the tree. Human expressions are impossible for it to read, but there is something poignant in the way she holds a hand out, shyly, as if afraid to be slapped away. Despite the many leaves falling, all of them brushing by, none lands on her hand.
I have been waiting for very long now. But there is no clock prodding me along, despite what people around me would tell me. I am a patient woman, not the impetuous girl I used to be, but our hearts are the same, as are the things we long for.
Fall has come. And in fall this year, I wish I may finally find love.
The leaves fall around her, orange-brown as if kissed too passionately and burnt by the rays of the sun. Chastised, the sun in question has retreated shyly to behind a cloud, leaving gusts of wind to move the leaves along the eddies of air, tracing a drunken trail of unpredictability. The woman, tall but with otherwise unremarkable features, has a slightly sad smile on her face as she watches. She does not seem to notice the man beside her - though past his youth, the slight lines on his face are kind, and his eyes intently intelligent as he reaches across gently, moving his hand into her field of vision to catch hold of a passing leaf.
[c: 311006, 2333h]
A/N: This turned out longer than I expected it would, and rather unexpectedly rambling. It’s also very much influenced by those scenes of falling sakura I see in anime and manga. It’s contemplative…a little sad with all the wasted years - but, after all, that’s what ripened years are about, aren’t they? For Shubei, who participated in my Join the Concepts - she provided the first line, though I admit it isn’t really a first line - it’s not very linked to the rest.