A Crisp Autumn Stroll

Staying locked inside had grown dreadfully tedious, so I slipped out through the balcony's slightly cracked glass door. The terracotta tiles were chilly, but right beside a weathered clay flowerpot lay a single dried oak leaf, crisp and curled like a bat's wing. It clearly needed an upgrade. Using my sleeve to pinch an edge, I balanced a discarded, candy-pink plastic bread clip onto its center vein, weighing down its brittle spine until it rocked forward like an eccentric little chariot. Now it resembles an eerie vessel ready to sail into the autumn wind.