This weekend, there were two amazing things that happened. The first, FenCon, was a great learning experience and chance to network and chat with both new and experienced members of the writing community. That’s always a fun time for me. How often can you join bestselling authors for breakfast, drink next to a sad shark (costume), and discuss levitating moon dust, publishing trends, and tricks for better wordsmithing in one place? The second glorious thing was that the first cool breezes of autumn came rolling through the area, heavy with rain and bringing green back to the plants here. So, fresh with the changing weather in mind, I find the Five Sentence Fiction prompt, and the changing seasons certainly seemed worthy of celebration.
The seasons come rolling past like the wind, unstoppable and only noticeable in passing. For the people of Mitchell’s ancestry, each season was marked with a celebration and a gathering anyone who was near. When he was young, he raged against the inconvenience and tradition, for the world was new and the songs belonged in the past. Now, with hair the color of birch bark, and skin as paper thin, he finally was beginning to understand how precious each season was and why seeing another was worthy of celebration. If only he could explain the importance to his grandchildren, but it would be easier to explain the fire in the autumn leaves to a rainbow field of budding spring flowers, so instead he cherished the innocence in them that he had so long ago lost.