Olives

A Story by Canair

IS AUTUMN.

All that could be seen were each majesty wearing crimson crowns, their fingers firmly soaked, weeping to one another. An array of reds, orange, and yellows, danced to her delight. A savoury zest pinched the tip of her tongue, Alyson shut her eyes. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, repeat, repeat, repeat. Now open your eyes, look again, repeat the first step.

-- I'll finish it later..