The Feel of Fall

          Miss Kitty rode Miss Patches to the cabin, relishing the feel of fall on her skin. The air, bordering between the seasons, tasted like raspberries, and the leaves on the trees pretended to be birds, spinning and twirling to the ground. The ground, a kaleidoscope of color, reminded her of the quilt her grandmother had made just for her when she was a child.

            Miss Patches, eager to reach the meadow, where she knew she could still find tasty tidbits of sweet grass, tried to break into a trot, but Miss Kitty held her back, patting her on the neck and telling her to walk. Miss Kitty was in no hurry this early evening. She knew that when they arrived at the cabin, she would have to bundle up Harold’s bones and bury them beneath the white pine tree.

            Harold, sitting on the deck, waved when they arrived. He had on his wedding outfit, complete with a daisy pinned to his lapel. Miles, he looked proud in his red jacket, perched on Harold’s shoulder.

            Miss Kitty dismounted, took off Patches saddle and bridle, and led her into the meadow, where Miss Patches immediately rolled in the dry grass. Miles scurried off Harold’s shoulder and followed Miss Kitty and Patches. Miles, amazed at the horse’s actions, admired the horse’s grace and athleticism. When Patches completed her third roll, Miles clapped his hands.

            Miss Kitty leaned down and picked Miles up. Together, they walked back to the cabin, and trudged up the stairs to the attic. Harold, positively aglow, gave his friends a hug, and then, without a word, sunk into the bones lying on the bed.

Miss Kitty wrapped the skeleton in a clean sheet, and carried it down the stairs, out the door, into the field, and to the grave where Lilith waited for him. When she placed Harold’s skeleton into the grave, his bones wrapped themselves around the bones of his wife, and then, all was silent.