The Whisper of Winter
Footsteps faded when Sasha walked away. Stillness crept through the flower beds soon afterward.
A figure stayed rooted, eyes fixed on the trail she left behind. Her footsteps whispered through his thoughts, ghostlike, stubborn. Quiet settled - not sharp, yet thick enough to feel. Evening brought its cool touch, slow and certain.
A breath left him at last, eyes lifting to meet the night. Above, the moon hung - cool and still, draping the yard in soft glimmers. Air moved through, sharp with autumn's edge, touching his skin as if whispering something just remembered.
Cold bit harder now, he thought aloud. A thin mist escaped his lips without warning.
Overhead, the leaves stirred just a little, yet enough to catch his breath mid-inhale. Winter crept closer, unseen but known by those who listen. A change hung there, quiet, almost missed.
He smirked faintly. "So this world has seasons too… summer, rain, winter. Even that's the same."
