Short Story Written by: Shruthi Mohanraja
Story Cover Design by: Gowri Chandran
Leaves falling, falling, falling. Autumn. A short, cold season. Footsteps sound all around the figure lying on the pile. She does not stir. People do not notice that she does not stir. It has been a while since she has stirred. She has not found a reason to stir, for a while. The seasons do not last, so she waits patiently for the next and the next. For every year, when she will be free again. Under leaves and promises of the future.
The footsteps fade away, as all things fade away. She remains still. The hustling of the city grows, yet she does not stir. Nothing will make her stir. The season of autumn, a growing cold and despair. The return of coats and jackets, mittens and gloves. The dislike for the cold grows, the sound of children laughing lessens. The figure does not wish to stay still for much longer.
She misses the clean and fresh air, the blankets of white, the chirping sounds of the crickets. She yearns for the crisp smell of mangos, the salty odor of the rippling sea, the exotic creatures under the ocean. Most of all, she misses the time when things were simpler and more united. It has not been that way in a long, long time.
A new sound approaches her. A child. But this child is different. Not like those who dismember the Earth, and bring Chaos to the world. This one feels different. The child giggles with its parents, gazing at them with such adoration it almost causes the girl to smile. But not yet, it’s too far along to smile. The child stumbles, and falls onto the pile. The figure gasps subconsciously. The child stops, as if it heard the gasp. Impossible; no one has paid attention to the girl for millennia.
The child cocks its head towards the pile, then lies flat on the pile, seeming to listen to the ground. The figure hesitantly reaches out to the child and says, Hello. The child smiles so widely, it warms the girl down to her roots. The child whispers, Hi! back. The figure cries with joy, as she is heard after ages of silence. Can you hear me, little one? The child does not answer, but laughs a pure sound of joy and leaves the girl. The girl is sad, but thanks the little one silently for awakening her. As the child and its parents move forward with each other, the girl stretches out her body and examines her vitals. Just a little more time, and she would have begun to disappear permanently. The girl sits up and opens her eyes. Vibrant green in one and pure white for another, the girl takes in her surroundings and the people living here. She smiles. Things were going to change for the better, after eternities of disarray. She couldn’t wait.