RITA lay half asleep in the rocking chair in the verandah. She glanced at her hands absentmindedly; thick blue veins criss-crossing thin parchment-like skin! One fine day, just like that, they had suddenly turned this way. It had bothered her then, these unseemly creases. But Vivek had held these very hands so lovingly and the meaning of her life had changed.  

Now, he was gone, but browns and greys no longer frightened her.

“How beautifully leaves grow old!”

The branches quivered in the fading light.  Rita closed her eyes and sank deeper into the rocking chair.

She was not afraid of winter any more.


Please visit Jenny Matlock’s Saturday Centus for more shades of autumn