IN THE SHORT OF THE AFTERNOON

In the middle of December, a young woman wandered around her quiet neighborhood on such a serene afternoon. The weather was unseasonably warm and it felt more like late summer as she strolled with a steady pace on the side of the street. Her worn black boots felt comfortable enough to walk for hours, if she had the hours to spare. She studied the masses of fallen leaves that line each block. Some were neatly bagged in see through plastic and some were piled gently without the gathering restriction. Occasionally, she passed a pile so large that fantastical thoughts of jumping in were filling her already full mind.

A quick smile as she passed the latest foliage temptation. If only the outfit that adorned her wasn't so delicate. If only her inhibitions weren't so brash and controlling. If only time stopped at the time when she was more carefree and naïve. She let out a soft chuckle and let the moment pass while she continued her forward momentum. Her newly found determination is still fresh on her conscience and seeking the past was not on her agenda today. This moment she feels alive. It is not the result of someone new or any change in the complexity of her problems. The week's introspection gave new insight into living for the moment and staying in the present. It is the nice weather, the effervescent air and the rich colors that saturate the scene that she is thankful for.

There seems to be a slight hint of promise that passes around her. It is the optimistic spirit that cannot help but leap beyond the current reality. She struggles to leash it and reel it in or else that imagination can lead to a hard striking descent that she is all too familiar with. Her final steps are in view as she approaches the metal gate that encloses her house. This is a bittersweet conclusion to such a relaxing unaccompanied promenade. Suddenly, a considerable gust of wind sends leaves upwards in a flurry. She is enclosed in the frenzy and looks to the sky now filled with confetti of browns and maroon. Her feet stop in their tracks, her arms stretches out, her head tilts back, her lips separate into a beaming grin, and then her eyes gently close. It is here and now that her heart begins to open.

~ Marilen J. Sarian