Motes of Autumn

She sat at the computer, staring out the windows. She watched the orange and yellow leaves float down from the trees. Looking at her computer, she couldn’t figure out what to write. She sighed. The week had been hectic. Slow paced when she wanted things to move, and racing when she needed a moment to breath. Giving up, she closed her computer and went for a walk.

The breeze caressed her face, lifted her hair and tickled down her arms. She smiled. The leaves crunched under her feet like crinkly laughter. The scent of dry foliage, the last veggies in the gardens and windfall apples heating in the sun delighted her nose. She walked for an hour in the warm golden sun.

 

The fairies put the earth to bed, one leaf at a time. One nut, one apple, one mote of dust in it’s appropriate spot. Man walked by, unaware of the beauty arranged by the wee folk.

 

She was finally happy. The work was going well, and the story was coming together. It had taken walking in the autumn afternoon to make her feel alive. She saved her work and headed to the kitchen.

 

He came home to the buttery smell of bread fresh from the oven and some sort of chicken soup warming on the stove. “It smells so good in here.” He walked over to where she stood and kissed her neck. She giggled.

“Yes, it does.” She wrapped her arms around him, returning the kiss.

“I bought some hard cider. Will it go with dinner?”

“Of course.” She busied herself with ladling out soup and set the bowls on the table. The bread was in a basket and around the plates, she’d scattered some of the leaves she’d collected on her walk. She called him to the table and they ate, punctuated with small talk.

 

When they went to bed, he rolled her in his arms. Kissing, touching, holding. Their kisses tasted of soup and cider. His hands flowed across her body like the breeze had on her walk. She responded with kisses and touches of her own, making his body react and his voice gasp in pleasure. Nipples pinched to ruby brightness floated before his eyes as she arched up to meet his thrusts. Her hands held him in the grip of passion as they moved together. His metered thrusts gained momentum and her moans of pleasure filled his ears. Their passions peaked in joyful frisson and they floated to the bed with gasps of joy.

 

Above their entwined bodies, the fairies tucked moths away and tidied up the last of the broken spider webs. Sprinkling fairy dust across the sleeping forms, the fairies giggled. Then five of the stronger ones pulled the sheet up over them and left to finish their dances in the light of the new crescent moon.

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