He had to wait for winter to arrive. Or so they told him. The summer, they said, belonged to others. He had to wait for the air to turn chilly and the wind biting; for the frost to form on the trees. Only then would it be his time.
But the summer seemed without end.
He willed the leaves to begin their change – the shift to golden browns would herald the approach of colder days. But disappointment dogged him. No matter how he hoped and wished and prayed, how he yearned for the seasons to shift, the green of summer remained dominant.
All the while, children laughed and played in bright sunshine, while he looked on.
He had to wait for the days when children wore warm coats to play outside, bundled up in hats, scarves and gloves. And when maybe, just maybe, the snow would fall and they’d build snowmen in the park.
First, though, the long summer had to end.
Charlie scowled. It wasn’t fair.
He wanted it to be his birthday now!
Word count: 175
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This post is for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s prompt was provided by Ioniangraphics. Thank you for the prompt!
I hadn’t intended to post anything this week – mainly because I haven’t managed to respond to any of the comments on my last post yet (sorry) – but the words came into my head last night and wouldn’t leave me alone until I’d written them down. It seemed a shame not to share it.
I hope you like it. And I’ll try to respond to some comments and visit a few blogs this evening!
Exploring our connection to the wider world
Wrangling literary arts for writers: words for people!
watching the world of brain research
Trust your own instinct. Your mistakes might as well be your own, instead of someone else’s. Billy Wilder