Walked the evening, up yonder- a jocund company of children, all assembled round the pavement brook with violet nooks and honeysuckle, and neatly decorated cushions of moss, holding up in their hands in sparkling dance waving up their heads was the flower that stood out most- a lucky white bluebell. Peculiar…. But just a little further, were there joyous men and women in cloaks of scarlet gold and emerald silver standing out shops with harmonicas, and singing to a merry tune-

“La, La, La, Lalala,

Frolic leaves that so green,

And emerald hedges with silver brooks

La, La, La, La…..

Twilight dawn, and fireside warmth

Stories old and prophecies here,

La, La, La, Lalala.”

I had watched sat by the barden drowsing in rhite-wine and fruit bread, in pensive the sight had took me to a fascination that I cared to resist. Much a ruckus the show had brought to me. A fuss if you ask me, the streets lit with tapers and banners all in celebration for autumn, here and there. Matchsticks lit, and the fair women from the isolated corners of the city had even joined- hitting tambourines, plucked the bright blooming intriguing red flowers and tied up their hairs, with their winnowing baskets waving them around here and there in a dance. “Yeh’ not out ther’ are ye?”, “Stupid lot, aye?” I didn’t have to say so myself, Dean a once friend of mine broke the silence…. He came up to vape just as me, while all the other splendour in the autumn celebration, me and that old fella Dean who was as old as fifty just as me with white beard sat in the bar which was yellow and cornered with wood, only me and Dean as though all is dull and dead to the gulls. We have sat in towering wooden seats looking out in what seemed a wide window made of wood at the people who we thought have gone mad in the celebrations.

“Quite reckon so, draws me back to the fancies of childhood but now when I remember to that there, it unmans me so, Dean” I said to him, under his thick sunglasses, I could even see his weary eyes welling up tears. I had wanted cry just as him, remembering when all we were was naïve children and now we two with the same destiny- but I had gulped my feelings down, I have gone sombre. Dean walked up and left the bar, back to his home. I sat and stared, there were holy preachings and men making offerings to the nameless gods above. It was dizzy, and my forehead hurt going back to now a horror that I wanted to resist. I woke up being sombre and loosened buttons of my coat from fainting down.

*

Being now at home again, and alone in my solitude. There was a parcel sent by my trusted pigeon Percy, in it was a letter and a peep-show box. The parcel that made me curious, when I had opened the box. There was sweets and flower assorted in all with all sorts of shapes and sizes… It had really made me wonder who sent this to me for I had lost all those ones dearest to me. Warmed my heart, for all twelve years I was lost in society. I had threw letter for when I had saw that gift, I got up to tears. I sat down by the fireplace, if god was ever good to me. Where all the world loves autumn, to me when the hour dawns; screeching of the violons. Then it hurt my forehead, but a green dust of smoke which took me to a flashback where my father lay dead, in a camp hospital and his final words to me was that made me sad, before I could get to that. I opened my eyes… the lights went out and then I lit a matchstick. When all alone, I had lost all and then again, a flashback- my only love in thirteen years to the plague lay flung on my arms when she was dead. I must forgotten my pain to live thirty years to my dearest one’s deaths, but every autumn is a month where the pain hits me back.

*

It had only took me a thought to become ever more wise, dwelling in the pasts which was there a point? I had lift up my curtains for the mellow sun, accepting a merry tune….