Precious. That familiar golden breeze whispered of a radiant hour, a season long past. Frolicking deftly, the auburn maple leaves remembered warmly.
Yet the stranger sitting below did not. Try as he might, he simply, couldn't recall a thing..
A weary sigh mingled with the rhythm of the wind. This was to be the last autumn of his world, he thought. But how did he know that?
Sweet sunlight smiled from the faces of morning dew sprawled throughout the swaying, pristine pasture. Rolling his bandaged fingers through the gentle grass, he recalled the silky touch of her hair.
A jaded smile. "I shall never forget her, will I?", the stranger breathes. Yet he cannot decide whether this eternal imprint is favorable to him or not.
The branches of the great maple tree nodded. Peering straight ahead towards the ginger dawn, the man reminisced on the image of those lovely sapphire eyes gazing into everything remained of him.
Perhaps..that girl, she'll remember. If not, the summer sun will.
A mass of wetness pounded suddenly onto the outside of his hand. Was it leftover raindrops from the leaves above, or...?
The remnants of the wanderer's heart told him something then. That...that he would have given anything to tell her that he loved her too.
But she was gone, and so was he.
A single maple leaf nonchalantly danced between the wind's arms, an angel wing so cheerful, yet so lonely. Once it settled onto his lap, he sighed deeply and closed his eyes forever.
Dawn of a Dying World