The Sound Of Rustling Trees [Short Fiction]
And do you know the sound of rustling trees?
You're standing at my window and whispering something to me the whole night. And I'm trying to listen to every one of your rustling. I go out into the street and breathe in the aroma of spring air, which is filled with sweet smell of acacia. I touch you and feel that you still have life, despite your heavy and massive branches. I'm sitting next to you on a lush green grass and, laughing, I remember my childhood.
When I first came to you, you were very tall and strong. And I wanted to become the same as you. But time went by, and you became less and less. Apparently you were burdened with life. Your leaves are no longer so sweet-green in color, as they used to be. Now they are already dark, but despite this, they still have life.
I catch this leaf, and my tears begin to fall directly on him. How painful it is to feel what you are suffering. But you are strong and you will manage, I believe in you. But I did not have much time left ...
Autumn has already come. I have a little time left, so I want to spend my last days with you.
I recently received a verdict that I would now be burdened with severe illness. My mother cries all the time. And I do not want to see her tears and suffering. I'm sick of this, but I do not want to burden it with my existence. Anyway, if I do not leave myself, so from this illness. Every day, it's harder and harder for me to be here. In the direction of my family are let go evil jokes about me. I hear something from my parents' friends: "Why do you have a family member? This is an unnecessary problem. Do you need them? Better give it to the shelter, and let it do what they want with her. "
I hear it almost every day. Perhaps it's really better for me to leave, because I carry only sorrow and sadness in myself. So let them be all free and happy.
Every day I look at your golden foliage and count how much it is left to the end. I swear that when the last leaf falls, then I will leave this world.
And now, cold as my soul blows, the autumn wind, and I catch it, your last leaf. I look at him, and I hear you whisper something to me. Probably you're trying to say that it's time. Sorry, I could not become as strong as you. But you will surely live, and I know it, after all, you are stronger than me, you will survive the trials of life.
The last time I look at your bare branches. Probably, it's easier for you now, because they all have fallen away. But I see how you miss them. Nothing, after all, spring will come, and they will reappear, and you will be happy again. I say good-bye to you forever and I conjure that you live no matter what...
The last breath of this spring air is filled with sweet flavors of trees, a flight to eternity and darkness... I see nothing, but it will be better... it's better for everyone. Be happy.
It's a pity that I will not hear your rustle... rustle of life...
And do you know the sound of rustling trees?
“The rustling of tress is the purring of nature by the winds gentle hands.”
-M
Inspiration from this story