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Weekly Contest #63
By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. "Dad!" I called, "The autumn leaves of the apple trees are on fire!" No reply. I guess this was up to me now. I ran towards where the hose should be, coiled up like a snake. The hose wasn't there. Strange. Very strange. I circled the house for an hour and finally came to the very front of the house, and there, standing watching the crisp leaves burn in the scorching sun, was my father. His black hair, frayed at the tips, blowing in the wind. "What are you doing, Dad?" I asked, "W...
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