Many thanks to Sandis Helvigs for loaning the photo.
He was bold he was cold he lived in a disguise.
He used a leaf to cover his eyes
With Autumn.
He Wore A Disguise like Autumn.
A fancy dress parade was to follow the carnival. The Carnival comprised of floats and majorettes, brass bands, boy scouts, tumble tots and brownies not forgetting the women’s institute and the natty knitters. The music blared from speakers followed by dancing dwarves; who were following snow white on her bed. The shop doorways lined with stalls, mulled wine, hot soup, cards, gifts and all manner of cakes and crafts for sale.
They paraded through the town twice, full of fun and revelry. The floats were to be judged and prizes awarded. Collections for the hospice and the homeless had been going on several weeks before, and at the event. The parade culminated in the turning on of the Christmas lights by some vacant reality television star; that no one remembered.
As a watcher, I stood out, not dressed fancy or otherwise.Because of the cold all the clothes I owned I wore. As one of the recipients of the collections, I thought a few scraps of food would be given me, a few bits … to ease my bones in the late Autumnal weather. Especially knowing it was only going to get colder and harder sleeping rough.
I thought of the cost of the lights, music and costumes, I weighed up the fuel spent and calculated how much the prizes would be. In a previous time, I was a numbers man, a number cruncher and balancer of books. I wandered through the park to where finally the tractors rested their wheels and the children were reunited with parents and teachers. Backs were slapped, kisses freely given and received. Many prizes were happily accepted and some tears were shed in tiredness. Pride shone from the faces of people in fluorescent tabards who were clutching stuffed buckets of dosh.
I bent down and picked up a leaf, I twirled it in between frozen fingers, a beautiful Horse Chestnut leaf as big as a tea plate. The leaf was golden and rust, as if kissed by the turn of autumn its last disguise, before withering away. From my spot, I watched as a photographer took snaps of all he could see, a journalist took notes, then they spied me. I lifted the leaf to my face to hide, a voice asked: “Excuse me can I take a shot … what have you come as?” I stood still, my identity hidden from all but me. “Me,” I said, “I have come as autumn.” A look of confusion crossed his brow, he took the shot purposefully and slowly walked away. The girl tapped her pad with a chewed pencil she nodded my way. She glanced back once or twice as she disappeared into the crowd, I knew she was there somewhere, lost, like me, anonymous, unseen.
I wasn’t given any soup or mulled wine. The vicar scowled and turned away when I asked for a sleeping bag and a scarf. No eye contact was made, no smile thrown my way. I wondered what people thought their money would do, how much it would help … a man like me. Someone down on his luck, shabby, hungry and cold; wearing a disguise like autumn.
Please readers, let me know your thoughts, leave them in comments and I will get back quick sharp. Happy Autumn.
I almost cried over the story. I even felt sorry for him in the poem. You really hit a home run with me on this Ellen. Beautiful yes sad, I was actually angry at all those people.
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I love when my words evoke true feelings. Thank you a better comment I couldn’t have had. 😇
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Beautiful writing – profound, poetic and moving
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Oh I am humbled by your words thank you.😇
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Reblogging this 👍🏼
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That is lovely of you thank you😇
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My pleasure dear. Feel free to respond to any feedback on my blog to comments to your post dear. 👍🏼
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I will x
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Hmm now I can’t seem to find the share or reblog option, is it me again..
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Humbled.😇
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Ellen I’m so glad you left a link for this wonderful post on my blog.
It’s written so beautifully, with each penned word chosen so carefully. I was drawn into the mystetical world you created of characters, then returned to the boy in the autumn costume.
As I reached the end I was lost for words and thirsty to read more.
Do you intend on writing a book?
If so do keep in mind to share with me, I ready to make a purchase.
Thank you Ellen.
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Hey simply you I found you in spam which means others unless you tell them you maybe in their spam won’t know to look. Now it would be best if you leave a sprinkling of comments for me to rescue like hedgehogs in a frozen den. The more you get taken out the less likely you’ll be put in. A yukky part of wordpress. 😯 please read my about it may reveal more. Your comment leaves me simultaneously thrilled and humbled .
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Aww bless you, finally discovered.
I sure will do dear and also would you mind if I shared this post on my blog. I’d love to.
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I would be honoured for you to share any of my work. 😇
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Yay, how wonderful. Thank you.
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Dear Ellen,
I did post a reply, not sure if it’s made it’s way to the spam again.
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Yes I have just released it from the spam box. Thank you 😇
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Oh thank you, what a relief.
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Great story, reminding us of a very important lesson, without preaching.
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Thank you for coming and commenting. I like new visitors 😇
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I like this sort of pithy writing, especially for my students. It forces them to choose exactly the right word. Twitter novels are like this — 140 characters to write the entire story. Fun.
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I agree flash keeps it tight and delivers a huge amount.
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Reblogged this on Kate McClelland.
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Kate you spread my words like butter on toast. Thank you for the support.😇
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Hahaha thank you – now you’ve got me thinking about hot buttered toast!!
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With or without Marmite? I am a strong with person.
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Marmite? Now there’s an idea! Hahaha
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Thanks for the fun👋👋
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You’re welcome Ellen, thank you too :0)
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THE POEM WAS VERY CATCHY BUT THE STORY….. VERY MOVING.
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Thank you Bernadette nice to see you here today. 😇
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