On the Cusp of Autumn
Images by melindabeaver on Storybird
Amelie stared at the gap that divided the kingdom of clouds from the rest of the earth, where the air was teeming with life. Fiery orange, red and mauve streaks caressed the skies, like flames against ash—the imprint of thousands of migrating phoenixes—marking not only the end of the day but also the end of summer, while the land below lay in silhouette.
Shimmering indigo horses with translucent, gossamer wings galloped across the air, bringing along with them the chill of the cosmos in their descent. Flocks of valkyries soared across the gap—donning glinting silver helmets and breastplates, and bone earrings in the shape of curved crescents—their feathery wings beating powerfully, glowing in the evening light, as they seemed almost to set the leaves of all the trees on fire, painting them in cascading golden and vermillion tongues.
Further down muscly, vibrant horses—each with a wicked, twisted horn jutting from the centre of their head—withered blossoms in their wake.
Waiting for the last of the valkyries to make the leap, Amelie drew a deep breath. Then she blew, as did all the pixies, delivering the howling, unearthly winds that take your breath away in autumn.