A Walk in the Park.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
The elderly couple tread gingerly through dying autumn leaves that feel crunchy, like cornflakes, under their shuffling feet.
They spot a Victorian styled wrought iron bench, in a sheltered wooded bower and slowly they approach it, so that they may rest their weary bones.
He takes out a clean, white handkerchief with which to dry the tiny spot of mould that sits on the bench, bleeding through the dappled droplets of rain from an earlier rain shower.
They both ease themselves down in silent companionship. She smoothes her clothes then takes his hand, weathered with the spidery veins of his advanced years, into her own as they sit in their peaceful spot.
The air is crisp and the late autumn sun feels silky against their upturned faces.
A strange aroma invades their senses, a musty odour with the tiniest hint of an oaky scent.
Suddenly, they hear a rustle from the trees behind them and turn to see a small woodland creature peep at them through the rustic leaves tinged with the russets and golds of the autumn season.
He helps her up from their peaceful spot and they slowly weave their way through the crunchy leaves once more.
Homeward bound, with thoughts of their warm, welcoming fire calling softly to them....
NOTE: This was a short prompted piece, led by the words: cornflakes, crispy, smooth, silky, dry, oaky, rustic, musty, crunchy, mould, strange, rustle, dead, veins and sports large' L' Plates!!