A boy and his dog play in the yard. He must be twelve, maybe thirteen. He is wearing jeans, still clean. The dirt has not found them yet. A white Izod shirt, blue and green stripes. It still smells like the detergent. His smile is all teeth as he runs in the sun.
Brilliant, the colors of the trees. Orange. Red. Yellow. Brown.
The dog is playing, dancing around his legs. Golden fur reflects a healthy shine. The boy dangles a stick in front of him, running. Barking, like laughter as they spin and collapse in a pile, on the grass. Laughing. Barking.
Wind. wind. Trees sway. Leaves fly, nature's confetti.
A thick voice, male. Boy and dog, both raise their heads, looking. A man, khaki pants, blue dress shirt, tucked a the waist. Handsome. His lips move, strong hands help the boy to his feet. Brushing loose grass off the boy. Pulling him into a hug.
Waving, they notice me. Calling me.
World spins, laying on its side. Settling. Focus. Refocus. Leaves falling across a white sky. Black screen. Static.
The glow of the screen pierces the darkness of the room. She clears her throat, running soft fingers across her cheek, capturing the wet line of tears. Her finger stabs the rewind button on the remote, watching the images flow in reverse, back to the beginning. She pushes the play button to watch it, to watch them, again. And again. And again. These images of autumn, so full of life, before the fall.
This is a Magpie Tale.