Adrift

CHAPTER III

Passion drives, Compassion strives, Life flies.

Gazing into the distant, gravel road, Meredith gathered nostalgia from the familiar scenery. The dominant earthy smell of fall, the product of plants hunkered down for the winter. Fallen leaves began to decay and their sugars, organic compounds broken down, fabricating the musky-sweet smell of a leaf pile. The wind greeted gravel and skin just the same, yet she was blessed to feel it. The giddy currents flowed through woodland canopies, unaware of how its song soothed those who can hear. She had thought of the wind as so free, chaotic even, yet it too has its path, even if there were infinite possible destinations. It was air with passion, a drive that powers onwards, every direction an option. The leaf tumbled before her, casting away by its wintry boughs to the air that sapped Meredith's heat. It twisted against the unseen air, gravity dragging it to a resting place. So alive, yet lifeless, just like Meredith herself. The branches swayed like the arms of a soccer crowd and it their chaotic dance they were hypnotically beautiful. This wind carried the fragrance of the woodland, the essence of her longing past. Her vision started to blur and squeezed out a single tear out of her hazel eyes. Those eyes were a melt of autumn tones, fending off the winter frost. She turned back toward her flower cart; she felt a chill with more bitterness than one of the homeless. The leaf scudded over the ground and took small flights into the air. The leaf elevated like sails without boats, carefree and joyful. Its colours sung to the blue of the sky and the green grass below. I imagine myself as tiny as an ant, riding one. The leaf felt like paper yet shine as church glass. Gravity pulling, air pushing and it’s just freely drifting along for the ride. The landscape suddenly altered into a vast, never-ending desert, only to be disturbed by tiny faint blurs. Another whistle of wind, full of warmth yet dry, directs the leaf towards the blurs. These blurs then became clear as the leaf gradually closed its distance. A rural, plain village, displaying nothing but tyranny.