A little something
She lay in a wicker basket wrapped in a warm soft pink blanket under a birch tree in a deserted area. It was fall, the leaves dissolved the glue that held them to their mother and fell to her feet. Vibrant and crunchy as potato chips they covered the earth and everything on earths surface. She lay sleeping, the basket rocked back and forth fending off the leaves until finally one fell onto her face and her eyes opened groggily and she lay, contemplating, her fat little hands clutching the this omen as it crumbled between her fingers into powerless fairy dust. Her eyelids were heavy she opened and closed her mouth and fell back into slumber. The leaves continued to fall and as the day wore on and the skies grew dark the basket became nothing more than a bump in the blanket of leaves. The night fell and by morning everything was still and the leaves lay quietly, sleeping, masking all things that lay beneath. All had been forgotten.