Leaving
“Going somewhere?”
“Maybe.”
“You’ve changed your look.”
“Obviously.”
“You haven’t been getting much nutrition. I can almost see right through you.”
“Stop.”
“Just because all the others are going–”
“Stop. Just…don’t.”
“…Robin left last week.”
“I saw. You know, it won’t be that long.”
“Long enough.”
“Winter only lasts a few months.”
“I’ll be colder here without you.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You’re not completely alone. The hole will be filled for a while.”
“It’s not the same. They’re nuts.”
“Yeah…There will be new ones to replace me.”
“Not the same as you.”
“The wind is picking up.”
“I guess you’ll be leaving.”
“I’m the last one.”
“I noticed.”
“Well…”
“Should I say goodbye?”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
Laura was sitting on the park bench, watching as the last leaf of the large maple tree was dislodged from its branch and floated down to join the others that were colorfully littering the ground.
Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich
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If you enjoyed this story, you might also like my story Taken or Bitter-Sweet Love.
