Time

AmyWritesStuff

A patchwork of russet and orange leaves swirled, and were sucked up into a whorl despite their sodden weight, then flung against the window where they stuck like those Christmas clings that Holly often saw in shop windows. She paused in her study and looked out, her grey eyes bright under her dark lashes and groomed brows. Shivering, she shifted in her seat and put her cup down and gazed out at the rainy evening.
Across the road shops were shutting, hassled looking people dashed about, some with their Friday night take away treat, some with bags of shopping. A gaggle of Bambi teens squealed as a car sent a tidal wave their way, and Holly smiled remembering the thrill of late night shopping, the cloying scent of the make up counter and the tinkle of cheap jewellery. The fantastic grown up feeling of having coffee out with your girlfriends…

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