Mr. Autumn makes a bet

 Welcome to The Spot Writers. The prompt for this month is “fall or autumn.”

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is an Italian author and currently lives in Berlin, Germany. She writes fiction, with a focus on children’s literature and science fiction.

 

Mr. Autumn makes a bet

by Chiara De Giorgi

 

Mr. Autumn was walking along the canal, watching the clouds and the trees and the houses reflected in the water. He was ruminating, had been ruminating for a week. He had made a bet with the Weather Master; time was running out and he still didn’t know what to do to win it. 

The Weather Master had recently come up with one of his ideas: he had invented a thing called Seasons. 

He had assigned one to Miss Winter, who filled it with white and frost: elegant snowflakes, shimmering icicles, bare branches covered with soft snow. She looked so happy in her furry coat! And her hands were enveloped in thick gloves, and on her head she wore a bright woolen hat. 

Mr. Spring was put in charge of another Season. He splashed the meadows with green and filled them with brightly colored flowers, dressed the bare branches of the trees with lovely buds and tender leaves. He unleashed birds in the sky and butterflies in the fields.

A third Season was managed by Miss Summer. She gave juicy fruits to the trees, added the buzzing of a million bees to the chirping of birds, made the sun bright and warm, and the sky clear and deep blue. Squirrels filled their little mouths with nuts and ran up and down the trees.

As the Weather Master boasted about this last invention of his, Mr. Autumn expressed his objection: it was a harsh transition between the Season Miss Summer had created and the one by Miss Winter. To go from bright and warm to white and frost. From juicy fruits and green leaves on the trees to bare branches covered in snow. From fluffy red tails disappearing behind a tree trunk to icicles hanging from the branches.

The Weather Master had smiled and said: “Then, be in charge of a fourth Season! Can you create a good one in a week? Let’s make a bet!”

Mr. Autumn had been taken by surprise, but he couldn’t pull back, could he?

And now, the week was almost over and he hadn’t been able to produce this fourth Season. 

But finally, while a gust of wind pushed a leaf, sending it twirling and floating to rest on the he water in the canal… he suddenly had an idea.

He painted the leaves yellow, red, and rust brown; then he made the wind swirl them around, creating a multicolored carousel, dancing in the air. He dropped chestnuts in the grass, lit fires in the fireplaces, and scented the air with grapes and figs. The air grew colder, the sun hazier. The birds left their nests, and the ants hid in their holes. The fourth Season was ready. 

When he saw the trees so ablaze with colours, the Weather Master clapped his hands, and called everyone for a round of celebrations. Miss Summer brought honey, Miss Winter brought biscuits shaped like snowflakes, Mr. Spring brought flowers for the table, and Mr. Autumn some roasted chestunuts. 

“Marvellous, marvellous!” the Weather Master exclaimed. “Shall we do another bet?” he added excitedly.

Promptly, a squirrel popped its head out of Mr. Autumn’s pocket and tossed an acorn at the Weather Master.

“Excellent aim,” he mumbled, rubbing his head. “I suppose this means no more bets…”

And thanks to the squirrel’s infallible aim, there is no fifth season. 

 

The Spot Writers:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/