by J.M. Cochrane
The girl wrenched the pollen-dusted flowers from her hair and cried out, “It’s not fair! It’s too soon!”
Her replacement sighed, and the room instantly grew warmer through his exhaled breath. “It’s been three months, Spring,” he said softly. “Same as always.”
The gentle season lowered her face, causing both hair and tears to cascade down her cheeks. It was Winter who comforted her, showing uncharacteristic tenderness as she took Spring into her arms. The young girl startled at the icy touch, but soon sank gratefully into her companion’s reassurance.
“Calm yourself,” Winter soothed, her voice as soft as falling snow. “The year shall pass quickly. Soon it will be you taking my place once more.”
Summer sighed again, this time with relief, and filled the room with a blistering heat. It was his turn now.
The new season gripped the doorknob with a scorching hand, and already their part of the world grew warmer in anticipation of his arrival. Behind him, Autumn lounged leisurely and toyed with one of Spring’s discarded flowers. In his fingers, the petals wilted, and the leaves turned a dusty gold.
“See you in three months, Brother,” he called.
Summer grimaced at the reminder of his inevitable return to the room, where, like Spring, he would have to sacrifice his hold on the world and wait for his turn to come around again.
But for now, the earth would thirst and the sun would blaze beneath his reign.
The doorknob was turned—Summer was here.
1 comment:
This was fun.
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