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Weekly Contest #204
When October came, the fiery colours of the oak trees around the farm looked like they were burning from afar. Even though it was noon and the sun was shining, there was a faint cool mist in the air. The day would have been quiet then, if not for my father, who was chopping down trees with his trusted axe to expand the farmland. Thud. Thud. Over and over, for hours, father would tirelessly strike a tree until it collapsed. I wanted to help, but father told me just to watch. He said having me around gave him strength and focus. Ever ...
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