Epilogue.

"I remember Autumn," she murmured, twining a dark curl around her finger.

"Where I come from, there is a certain time of the year

when the trees exchange green clothes for jewel coloured ones. 

Rich reds, coppers, lush yellows...

You would have to see it to believe." 

And in her mind's eye, she was there, gazing over the mountains

wearing their brilliant colours.

A breeze brushed her cheeks like a cobweb. 

It was crisp with the promise of winter and

bittersweet in its warmth, like the whispers of new love.

But like love, it just wouldn't last, 

and she couldn't figure out how to hold it,

or make it stay.

She turned her back to him,

hot tears collecting under her closed lids.

He propped up on his elbow,

wanting to touch her and bring her back.

But he could not reach her where she was,

or get to wherever she was from.

She was already gone.