Autumn Leaves

by Roger Noons

a large mug of gardener’s tea

‘Lovely morning, Harold?’

    He winced, believing anyone under forty years old should address him as Mr Roberts. ‘Morning … Jane.’

    ‘Beautiful day?’ She continued, looking around. ‘I love autumn.’

    He grunted; gazed in the direction of the sweet chestnut at the bottom of his garden, ignoring the leaf-strewn lawn.

    ‘My boys like to go to Hasbury Woods, collect conkers … kick up the leaves.’

    He sighed.

    ‘The colours of autumn leaves,’ she mused. ‘Make me wish I was a painter, or any sort of artist.’

    He nodded. ‘Leaves … yes …’

    ‘I’m going to collect some, make a flower, well a leaf arrangement for the table.’

    ‘Right,’ Harold said, offering his rake. ‘You start and I’ll go and fetch the wheelbarrow.’

About the author 

Roger is one of our regular contributors. His Slimline Tales was published by Chapeltown Books earlier this year and a short film has been made of seven of the stories from that volume.