Unwritten stories.

Three

“The summer is leaving the scene”, said the carmine tree leaf, when flying in front of Olya’s face.

After sharing its melancholic thought, the leaf headed dramatically to the ground in little loops and circle dance-like movements. Then, right before landing on the ground, it made one final turn, went around the shaggy dog’s head, tempting him to follow the flight with wonderment, and finally laid itself on the pavement in slow motion.

The dog looked at its owner as if to ask whether what the leaf said was true. But Olya did not notice the questioning face of the puppy. She was busy scanning the trees for other leaves dressed in warm colors – in preparation for the cold weather ahead.

The sun was not as warm as it was just a few weeks ago. The clouds, hiding it for a minute or two from people’s tanned faces, were already able to make you shiver. The brightness of the day was not as cozy. The night had started to arrive earlier in the day. School had started. The sea was cold and the seaside – deserted.

The rainy weather of the last couple of weeks had brought the feeling of spring – now that the sun was up and shining again. However, this scarce warmth on one’s face was really nothing like the first days of spring – it didn’t bring the delight of hope, or the joyful anticipation of a new beginning.

Olya took a cold breath, as if to clear the sunny thoughts from the drawers of her last-season mind, and let a warm breath through her scarlet pug nose.

She looked at her dog, who was sniffing the autumn leave on the ground with curiosity, and said: “come on, Shaggy, it’s time to go make some tea at home”.