The Rogue Speaks:
The leaves cruched under my boots until they didn't. I had reached the edge of the lake. I turned and gazed up the path. On the left was the sourwood tree, its leaves glowing neon red in the sun--electric leaves.
A young woman and her lover lay on a faded quilt beneath the tree, their bodies close, his fingers gently pushing her long brown hair back from her face. She slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him down to her.
I turned and, opening the urn, I flung the contents into the water, saving a little to place by the sourwood tree, under our electric leaves.
An October Saturday Centus, with 109 words including the prompt, which is in bold type. If you have not taken part in this exercise, please consider joining me and the other Centusians, led by our muse, Jenny Matlock. Every week is a different challenge, and it is so much fun to read the creative ideas of other writers.
Blogger is messing with my head again, and won't let me publish photos with my post, so you will find the photo for this Centus in my right sidebar. If anyone knows what's going on with these strange and goofy error codes blogger is handing out, please let me know. Google doesn't even know! What do you think about that??
See you on Thursday!!