Seasons

 Day 20 Flash Fiction Marathon Prompt: Smoke

 Ellen kicked the fallen leaves on her walk from school to home, a mere three blocks. Autumn was her favorite season with its vibrant red, yellow and orange leaves. Gone were the summer's  heat and humidity that left her lethargic and unmotivated. 

Autumn had always seemed like a new year, a new start in life. She guessed it was from a lifetime of starting school, university, getting her kids ready for the new school year. As a teacher she faced 30-odd fresh-faced third graders each September.

As she walked, she smelled the smoke of a neighbor's wood fire and planned to build one in their stove. Maybe, she'd start a pot of chili and let it bubble on its top. Mentally, she was already in her PJs, fuzzy slippers. After preparing tomorrow's lessons, she knew which book she'd start as she curled up on the couch under the afghan her grandmother had made a lifetime ago.

Jerry, her husband, hated autumn because not only did it mean he no longer could play golf after work, it was prelude to winter with its slippery roads and the need to shovel "that damned white stuff." Their marriage had fallen into an empty canyon, separate friends, separate activities. They didn't fight but most of their conversations were who would call the plumber to fix the leaky faucet type.

Ensconced on the couch with her book and cocoa, she looked up to see Jerry standing with two glasses of red wine. She hadn't heard him come in.

He hemmed and hawed before saying, "I've been offered a promotion."

"Wonderful."

"In Florida."

They had visited his sister every February School holiday in Sarasota. He played golf every day. Ellen didn't hate those trips, but found the endless trips to the mall and trying to sidestep any talk of politics fine for a week. 

The words fell from her mouth before she could stop them. "I think you should go alone."

It took three hours before he could see the wisdom of separating. Their love had turned to like. Parting as friends made more sense than building resentment at leading lives one of them didn't want over whatever decades they had left. 

After Jerry went to bed, Ellen looked at the stove with its smoky smell and dying embers. This autumn was really the start of the new year like never before. 

396 words