Autumn Short Stories

First Frost

The crisp air nipped at Brooklyn's cheeks as she walked through the small town square, her boots crunching against the first frost of the season. The frost had arrived early this year, a sharp reminder that the warm days of autumn were slipping away, replaced by the cold silence of winter. The ground was covered in a thin layer of ice, the remnants of a chilly night, and the trees, once heavy with autumn leaves, stood bare and skeletal against the gray sky.

Brooklyn had always loved the first frost. It felt like the world was quietly transitioning, readying itself for the winter ahead. It was beautiful in its starkness, the way it covered everything in a blanket of white, softening the sharp edges of the world. But today, there was an emptiness to the frost that unsettled her.

She tucked her hands into her coat pockets, her mind heavy with the weight of memories that always seemed to surface this time of year. The frost reminded her of something she hadn't wanted to remember. It was the anniversary of her mother's death—two years had passed since the accident. Brooklyn hadn't been able to visit her mother's grave for months, and even now, the thought of it tightened her chest. The first frost was never just a reminder of the season; it was a reminder of everything she had lost.

"Brooklyn!"

She turned at the sound of her name, and a smile tugged at her lips when she saw Ophelia waving from across the street. Ophelia, her childhood friend, had never been one for the cold. She was bundled up in a vibrant scarf and a thick coat, her curly hair tucked beneath a knit beanie.

"Hey!" Brooklyn called back, making her way toward Ophelia, who was already crossing the street to meet her.

"You look like you're lost in thought," Ophelia said with a knowing grin, her eyes scanning Brooklyn's face. "I know that look. What's bothering you?"

Brooklyn hesitated, glancing down at the ground, the frost crunching beneath her boots. "It's just... the first frost," she said quietly. "It's never easy."

Ophelia raised an eyebrow. "You're still not over it, huh?"

Brooklyn shrugged, her breath fogging in the cold air. "I don't think I'll ever be over it. It's not like it gets easier."

Ophelia's expression softened, and she reached out to touch Brooklyn's arm. "You know, it's okay to miss her," she said gently. "But you can't let it take over your life."

Brooklyn nodded, but it was clear from the sadness in her eyes that Ophelia's words didn't ease the ache in her heart. "I know," she murmured, her gaze drifting toward the distant horizon.

The two women stood in comfortable silence for a moment, watching as the town square came to life. People moved about, preparing for the winter ahead. The first frost had transformed everything into a quiet, sparkling world, yet Brooklyn felt more distant than ever.

"So, how's Perry?" Ophelia asked after a pause, turning the conversation to a lighter topic.

Brooklyn knew what Ophelia meant. Perry was Ophelia's boyfriend, but Brooklyn could always tell there was something between them that Ophelia hadn't quite figured out yet. She smiled, though the concern was clear in her eyes. "You two still doing okay?"

Ophelia hesitated, her smile faltering for just a moment. "I guess." She sighed. "It's just... I don't know, Brooklyn. Perry's been so distant lately. I'm not sure what's going on with him. We used to talk about everything, but now... it's like he's got this wall up."