A Collection of Short Stories

Golden Leaves

       David opened his eyes in a flash of golden ichor. The 31-year-old's short, blonde-speckled hair shifted in the wind flowing between the branches of the great trees that surrounded him. His lips parted slightly as he lazily looked up to take in his surroundings. 

He was laying on a soft bed of iridescent moss and leaves that contrasted the rich dirt of the forest floor. Ferns and bushes littered the ground in between the colored wildflowers that sprouted up through the earth in no particular pattern. David listened to the sounds of rustling leaves and a nearby hidden stream, his senses soaking up his surroundings in great pleasure. 

He was standing by now, brushing off the leaves from his corduroy pants and a white T-shirt. David stepped off of the pristine mat, leaving the security of it behind, and rolled his bare feet in the soil, the tips of his lips quirked upwards at the feeling. 

He began to walk, one step then another, weaving around the endless underbrush, towards the gurgling of the stream. The sound of running water grew louder and soon David could feel where the cool droplets contacted his skin. 

He pounced into the stream, the water only coming up to about his ankles, and threw back his head and laughed. David was thrilled to be experiencing a wonder of childhood. He stilled as he spotted a swarm of small, silver fish that seemed to dance among the mud and discarded smooth pebbles. He watched as if stunned when the tiny fish leaped out of the water and twirled through the air, then splashed back into the crystal-like water, causing ripples whose pattern was disrupted only by the banks and David's submerged feet. David stepped out of the water and watched as the fish continued down the stream without him. 

He sighed, his attention now lost from the silver flashes of light reflecting from scales, reached into liquid and scooped up a smooth green and blue pebble that seemed as if the two colors were drifting into the other, such as the yin-and-yang. David pocketed the stone and began to walk into a thicket of trees, leaving the stream behind. 

He had walked long enough that his legs began to throb when he came across a large flat stone, glazed with the sun, surrounded by bright, yellow flowers and rows of grass. He climbed upon it, soaking in the bright rays and relaxing against the warm, white rock. 

He noticed a disturbance in the tranquility to his left, when a branch lurched opposite to the wind, creating a whoosh of leaves. He stared intently at the branches when suddenly a multi-colored blur emerged from the peaceful storm of green. The bird darted through the air disappearing and reappearing as it weaved through the maze of trees before finally settling on a thin branch that boughed under the bird's weight. 

Now David could see the bird more clearly: it had a yellow head, a royal blue body, and a light lavender tail that consisted of long, layered feathers. David watched mesmerized as it began to sing intricate melodies formed by looping notes and patterns. He closed his eyes, allowing the symphony, which was similar to a song he had long forgotten, to continue to play it in his head. Then, with a heartful crescendo, the song ended, leaving David earning for more. The bird bowed his head and leaped from the branch before taking flight. David's gaze never faltered until the bird had drifted into the forest. 

A sigh escaped his lips, overpowered by the wind's new whistle, and David, free from his trance, noticed the sun was slowly sinking into the horizon, prodding the forest into the inky darkness. David leaped from the cooling rock, awakened by the thought of shadowed loneliness, the beautiful birdsong quickly swept from his mind replaced by panic as his smile faded. He ran forward with no idea of what was ahead or behind him. His breaths came out in harsh puffs and the tears that stung his eyes threatened to spill out. 

He suddenly collapsed as his wiry legs gave out due to exhaustion and lack of oxygen which was beginning to be fulfilled as his shaky breaths grew from desperate rasps to slower inhales. He inspected the cuts on his bare feet that had begun to create great discomfort and extracted the twits and leaves from his hair and clothes. He stood, unable to stop the shaking in his knees, and watched as the sun vanished beneath the skyline, only to be replaced by the glow of the eerie moon that contoured the trees. He turned in circles, noting his surroundings. 

David had fallen in the center of a bare, dusty clearing that was surrounded by thorny, blackberry bushes. He greedily snatched a dark berry from its stem and bit into it, hardly noticing the dark, murky liquid that dribbled down his chin, instead, focusing on his unrelenting hunger and thirst when he finished the fruit. He went to reach for another berry, stuffing his clammy hand into the tangle of vines, eager to taste the sweetness, but rapidly removed his hand from the plant the moment he felt a sharp pain. 

He inspected the pointer finger, which seemed to have snagged a thorn, and was now bleeding. He pressed on the wound and wiped his finger on his white T-shirt, which was now dotted with hints of red. 

He stared at his hand in utter defeat when he realized his back was growing warm and the air was growing lighter! He spun around to find a path leading out of the cage of berry bushes and to the rising sun. He walked slowly down the dirt and gravel trail until the rays of the sun turned the leaves a golden color. David shut his eyes tightly and stepped into the light.

Many thoughts often drift to other worlds. Some full of fairies, mermaids, and magic, yet others molten rock, monsters, and betrayal. One never thinks they would awake in their unknown world full of mystics for they only visit it in the golden haze of a dream. Dreams are much alike memories that you can brush your fingertips across, but not quite grasp it in your fist. In our forgetful, drowsy state, we loose sight of our remembrance, leaving us full of cracks and not fully whole. No matter, we always find our way back to new worlds eventually, but until then, we are awake.

*****EXPLANATION: This short story, if you haven't guessed it already, all takes place in David's dream. In my mind, the main points were all in clearings: the fish in the stream, the bird's song, and the berry injury. I wrote this to portray David as moving in his mind and rediscovering childhood memories he had forgotten. The swarm of fish represents childhood friends who either fell out of sync or David moved away. The bird represented his mother and the song was something like a lullaby. The berry bush and its thorns represent depression and navigating high school during adolescence. You do not have to use these examples but this is what I imagine them to be.******

*Wow! Two stories in two days! I want to thank you readers for choosing my collection worthy of your time. Thank you!