[identity profile] jaxomsride.livejournal.com
Yes, I know in the Antipodes the seasons are opposite but as Britain is into Autumn, this week the topic is Autumn, or Fall if you are American.

Again to interpret how you wish in any way you wish.

Again all past prompts are also open.

Have fun!
[identity profile] kerravongenius.livejournal.com

The mist took the edge off things. Trees became ethereal hints, rather than solid facts. Their leaves had also exchanged living green for the soft browns and golds of memory. The grass beneath Veron's booted feet was wet and she sent sparkling drops into the air with every step. At dawn there had been frost, as cold as a trooper's heart, as brittle as a rebel's hope. Now all was soft and wet and earthy. The smells on the air reminded her of running ahead of her mother, kicking through the leaf mould.

She did not know what had happened to her mother's body, and she preferred not to think about it, but it seemed to her that part of her mother had stayed with her, if only in the happy memories she treasured. In memory of her mother, she had broken her mother's rules. She had left traces of her existence in the woods, though only the most careful search would find them. Inside a hollow tree, she had placed a ring her mother had given her and she left flowers or leaves on a branch just above the height of a trooper's head. This morning, she was carrying all the most attractive leaves she had found on the ground. She held a small bouquet of soft colours. She wasn't sure why it mattered, but it did.

Later, she would meet Laban at the deserted church. His father had died about the same time as her mother, killed by the defences of the Forbidden Zone. They would clean their guns, discuss tactics and then walk through the woods together and whisper mist-like traces of their shared sorrow until the edges were fading and they walked contented in mellow memory.
[identity profile] vilakins.livejournal.com

We're supposed to do something autumnal this week but it's spring here in the forgotten hemisphere Uncharted Territories. PGP, 250 words.

Changes )

[identity profile] astrogirl2.livejournal.com
One drabble, written last night at work.


Outside, the nights were growing longer, and they brought with them a chill the thin Xenon dawn could no longer quite manage to dispel. All around, the vegetation was dying: leaves taking on the colors of fire and blood and dropping to the ground to crumble away to dust.

Avon understood the phenomenon, even if, child of the domes as he was, he had never witnessed it happening before. It was, of course, inevitable on any planet with an axial tilt, at any latitude far enough from the equator.

There was, he told himself, no symbolism in it at all.
[identity profile] entropy-house.livejournal.com
His father looked at his desk calendar. "The first day of autumn."

" Like a fes'ival? Mikey's family has fes'ivals." Roj put his thumb in his mouth, then popped it out to say wistfully. "I wish we did."

"Deltas do things differently. Autumn is the time of year when leaves drop off trees, that's all. Now, run along."

Roj went to their garden and the tiny tree growing in the center.

"Roj!" His father shouted. "What are you doing!"

Roj dropped his safety scissors onto the leaves he'd cut, lower lip trembling. "I only wanted to make it right."
[identity profile] astrogirl2.livejournal.com
Here in the northern hemisphere, the nights are getting longer and the days are getting cooler, so it seems like a good time for a challenge topic [livejournal.com profile] snowgrouse suggested some time back (probably about this time last year, in fact): autumn. Go forth and write something, um... autumnal.

(Sorry for the lateness of the post, by the way. My brain's gone completely to mush lately.)


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