It was two o’clock. The sky was bright. The leaves lime, golden, russet brown. Everything was a mess. Twiggy, knotted, dying, living. Beautiful yet barren. Winter was approaching. December drew close.

The wind whipped my hot cheek as I stood under the spidery tree. My nose was cold. I ran to meet him here, my feet darting, my heart dragging behind. I asked to meet him here, though I wish I hadn’t. But if I didn’t tell him now, I never would. He had a right to know before he went out and bought me a Christmas gift I might never be able to open.

A twig snapped.

‘Sarah? Someone call an ambulance!’

Writer. Faith walker. Notebook collector. Coffee drinker. Coffee Drinker. Coffee Drinker. Mother of two...and counting... @BathSpaUni MA CW grad.

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