Golden leaves (2.5)


We would wake up really early in the morning to catch the early birds. The fog would beg us to go back to sleep. I followed his warmth to the same spot every time. I hid my face in the fabric of his sweater. And I would fall asleep there, on the side walk, on his shoulder, to the sound of him begging for money or food. He would only ask that early in the morning, and then he would find petty work for petty cash. One day, he held my hand up, and said, Here, I’ll teach you. He told me that the key was persistence. And when the first person passed me by, I asked, with a bit of enthusiasm, if they could spare me a few bucks. The stranger looked at me dead in the eye and walked away. He took my heart, kept the change.

Big brother

We ate on the bench in the park. A cloud of hungry birds attacked a screaming old lady. Leo laughed. I watched him for a while. My hands were freezing. The wind weaved in and out of my skin, in and out of my mind. I had a teeth chattering smile when he turned to look at me.
“Race ya!”
“Where are we going?”
He took off running without answering. He left me and his mess behind. I thought of cleaning it up, but I realized that I wouldn’t be able to catch up to him if I did so I ran after him. The icy November breath blew in my face. I cried out his name, but he was so far away. The adrenaline rushed in when the overwhelming fear of being left alone settled in. I ran faster than I could, chasing an ideal. I felt the tears coming and when I caught up to him laughing, I slammed my clenched fist on his shoulder. To my surprise he picked me up and threw me on the floor.
I felt the gravity pull, at first, in slow motion. I looked at his face, for that split second, and registered his malicious smile. I tried to look at where I was falling. I felt myself sinking in, and instead of pain, I heard myself falling on dry leaves. “Ouch! My arm!” His eyes dilated, his forehead frowned, and his mouth opened wide. “I’m sooo sorry!” He bent over to take a closer look, only I pulled him in. He screamed at himself for falling for it, and then looked at me with the biggest smile. We laughed together throwing dead leaves at each other
When we got tired we laid there and stared at the sky. He was still for a while. I leaned in and planted a kiss on his cold red cheek. He smiled with his mouth, his mind still on those puffy clouds. I moved my head as close to his as possible hoping to see the world from his perspective.
It was quiet up there. A vacuum of peace. It was the perfect blue and the whitest white. It’s a wonder that we forget to look up sometimes and witness beauty. Leo was lost in there. Somewhere, in between dream and reality, he turned over to me and asked, “Do you think they could see us?”

Bed time stories

There was a woman in the news that lost her husband after he went to rake the leaves in their backyard. “He sunk right in!” Said the distraught lady. She then asked the reporter who she could sue for autumn.

I read somewhere else that a homeless man attracted hundreds of people with his amazing poems, much to the dismay of a nearby mom and pop store. It was reported that he may have made more money than the store itself that day, and raised the question of whether or not he should be taxed.

I highlighted mentions of special deals and volunteering opportunities that offered free food.

There were a couple of weird deaths, a murder case, and really hard to believe one-offs. The usual.

And then there was a recent picture of me and my parents, and the word “missing” in bold prints.

I took out every page of the newspaper and filled in my socks, my coat, my pants, until I felt protect enough. I snuck inside the warm cardboard box. I laid down on its hard surface and pressed closer to a snuggly Leondro.

Golden leaves (2.5)


Joined September 2009

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 6

Artist's Description

Part 2.5 of “cry baby” series

Please check out the previous ones and fav if you like

Artwork Comments

  • Donna19
  • bloorain
  • Arcadia Tempest
  • bloorain
  • Kirstine Dieckmann
  • bloorain
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