Little Red Leaf

All the leaves are brown, and the skies are grey. Autumn is here and you're away.

I look at the richness of the world around me, the pageantry of royal colour in the golds and the reds and the oranges that adorn the trees in their final flourish and it makes me sad that you can't see it.

Maybe you can see it. Maybe you're in the midst of it right now. Maybe you're looking down on it from above. I don't know where you are.

Soon, they'll start to fall. You used to love the leaves when you were small. Little red wellington boots. A hat that squashed your eyes. Mittens that made your little hands seem twice as large. You'd pick your favourites and bring them home. They've gone too.

I shouldn't torture myself like this.

Your father doesn't. He's moved on. New wife, new life. I know he cares about you but he's not tethered anymore. Or, at least, he's better at hiding it.

"How long are you going to live like this, Bethan? How long?"

Those were the sort of questions he'd ask of me before he left. Then, I'd look at him through my lank hair and my lethargy and want to cry out so much but my numbness wouldn't let me. I struggled. I struggle.

I just want...I just want to know where you are. It hurts...hurts. I'm holding on to hope but it has a slippery string, that leaves a welt in my hand as I try to keep it close.

I wish you'd come to me in dreams. To see you again...my little girl...

I wonder what you'd be like now. A young woman. You'd be 25 this month. Thirteen long years.

Stolen, you were. Vanished. Who? What? No-one's confessed and you've not been found.

Soon this place will be filled with little girls in red wellington boots and I will have to go to sit somewhere else. I draw attention, even in my stillness. It must be the silent tears.

A leaf falls. I grab it.

A striking, vibrant red. Like ones you saved.

Come home with me, little leaf. I'll keep you safe.

***

366 words

I woke up this morning with The Mamas and the Papas in my head and thought, "I really like that first line as an opener for a story" and although I've altered it slightly, the essence is the same.

I have to ask: why the apostrophes, Mamas and Papas? Why?

I thought I'd write it down and see where it takes me. Unfortunately, it was somewhere a bit sad really and I'm actually in a really good mood too.

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