Kaleidoscopes (Don't) Only Show Beautiful Colours

They wouldn't let me publish it without a title, so here goes...

The sun shines down illuminating the dust particles that are hovering around in the air. A beam of light is accentuating the lonely wooden bench which is placed near the edge of the bright circle. A shadow of a boy is imprinted on it. Reds, oranges, yellows and greens. Bursts of colour painting the secret place that was claimed by the boy when he first discovered it. As seconds move to minutes, the boy moves towards the bench. He continues to stare into the colourful abyss that surrounds him. A never ending rainbow of colour. The sadness that once consumed his body dissipates due to the beauty of Mother Nature. Inhaling a sharp breath he can smell the dying leaves that are losing their colour and turning brown. The smell is of a musty nature, like old unused books left on a shelf gathering dust. Nevertheless this was very comforting to him, it was as if the aroma knew he was feeling miserable and hugged him to ease some of the pain.

The boy arrives at the bench at which he has spent many days alone watching the splendour of nature tighten up and ready itself for the harsh winter that's coming. The trees are shedding their leaves and letting them go free so they don't have to endure the torture. Like a mother leaving her child so it can prosper the tree just wants best for the leaves. Unfortunately, the children of the trees are incompetent and cannot live by themselves. They slowly wither away. Alone. Being trodden and stepped on, the efforts of the tree proving vain.

He has pale creamy skin that looks as smooth as his mother's soothing words felt and his eyes are the colour of pure hazel to match the leaves lying next to his worn out shoes. A breeze blows against him and gently tousles the tendrils of shiny, dark brown hair. His arms are strong and masculine like trunks of trees but at the end are dainty hands with long pianist fingers.

While the wind is gently blowing the leaves lying on the ground in swirling patterns like mini tornados, the boy is fixated on his hands. On the wooden table he sees the ivory keys of a grand piano and starts playing them. The beautiful notes of Beethoven's Für Elise rise from the piano and dance in the air circling the trees. The last leaves of autumn are dancing to the melody of the alluring song. His fingers move swiftly and make no mistakes; his head follows the smooth rhythm, and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. The wind flows through the trees, bending and twisting around them. It splits into several parts and each segment arrives from different points around the clearing to meet in the middle. Each piece then interlocks with another to create an intricate puzzle of air and leaves. The piano continues and everything explodes at the peak of the song. The wind gathers speed and continues to go around the circle collecting dead pieces of nature and bringing them back to life. The emotion is a miscellaneous mix and the atmosphere is enchanting. The whole scene looks like something out of a dream... and then everything stops. Für Elise has ended.

The wind grows still instantaneously and turns into a mere zephyr compared to the emotion and intensity it had carried just moments ago. The leaves - with nothing present to support their life - slowly flutter to the ground. Any previous life they had once shown has now vanished. The boy bows his head and brings his arms down to his side. He gets up and says goodbye. Behind him, he leaves a piece of his soul amongst the trees and leaves departing with the intention of one day coming back to retrieve it.