In the middle of fall,
as the autumnal winds caressed the edges of leaves barely holding on to their parent trees tinging n tinting them a multitude of oranges, hazels, burgundies, bronzes, saffrons and mere browns, in the middle of the doom that had instilled itself upon the leftover green, in the middle of fall, spring came back. The sky suddenly paused and a parallel universe descended on reality, empowered by the multitude of nostalgia, wist and reminiscence that arose in blankets, layers, a dark unplague swarming itself upon the ethers of consciousness and nature. It ascended in resemblance to a thundershower in rewind. And it happened in a millisecond, not even in an eyeblink or heartbeat. Before we knew it, we had awoken, expecting gloom, and found ourselves stepping into hope. Off went the scarves. Off went the jackets. On went the melody of life. Out we stepped,
but did we dance?
