I brace myself for a life of unemployment and spinsterhood

I stand in the middle of the pile of leaves on our front lawn, wearing my suit and socks. I dig my toes and kick, watching the leaves flutter. A door slams and my neighbor steps out. My heart sinks into my polka-dotted socks. Mrs. Engel. My employer. I brace myself for a life of unemployment and spinsterhood. Stripped of my sophisticated boots, my secret is exposed.

Mrs. Engel walks over to me, and my perfectly made-up adult face is now perfectly coordinated with my hot-pink polka dots. She stands next to me, quietly, looking at the pile of leaves. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” she murmurs. Stepping closer, she bends her knees and gives a jump. The leaves crackle in applause.

— Chanie Brod

Autumn Footprints

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 764)