Stars, Leaves and Love

The leaves floated on the breeze like monarch butterflies dancing in the wind. Plump clouds glided past, on a periwinkle sky that contrasted delightfully with a bright yellow kite being flown just a few miles from the park in which we stood. The crisp air crackled with anticipation, and one whiff could make you perk up your ears and sit up straight. 1

I stood back, admiring the huge mound of leaves Carly and I had just spent the last hour-and-a-half piling up. Quite respectable, if I said so myself. 2

I shot a glance at Carly. My sister grinned and bowed her head. 3

With a whoop of exhilaration, I tore through the air toward the mass of leaves. Mustering all the might in my legs, I sprang up. 4

I crashed, feet first, into the pile, instantly shattering any serenity there might have been. The rough skins of the leaves scratched at my bare calves as they wove themselves into my hair and glued themselves to my shirt. Before I could let out one giggle, Carly was there at my side, pushing me still deeper into their midst and burying my body in theirs’. 5

“Carly!” I shrieked, my voice muffled by the yellow-orange leaves. My arms poked through the surface, groping for my sister’s hands. I quickly snatched them and pulled. 6

Feet uprooted from the ground, she toppled magnificently into the now strewn-about leaf pile. 7

It morphed into something rather like a leafball fight. How to play: seize a wad of foliage and pelt it at your sister. We were screaming in delight so much that a vast amount of the leaves intended for our arms or legs ended up in our open mouths. Spitting out the dried leaves (They tasted like stale bread!) provoked more laughter, thus continuing the fun. 8

Finally, we both collapsed, exhausted, onto the lush green grass. Panting, I rolled onto my back. I stared, shocked, at the speckled sky. A pearly white orb twinkled through the darkness.9

I panicked, my pulse quickening and my breath coming in sharp, irregular jolts. “Carly! We’ve lost track of time. The sun has set! It’s night!” 10

“Don’t worry. I told Mom we might run a little late. We could stay out here all night! It’ll be great; I’ve always wanted to sleep under the stars.” 11

With the air flowing smoothly in and out of my body once more, I relaxed my weary muscles and snuggled deeper into the grass with a sigh of relief. My mother wasn’t worried sick, and I was going to watch those glistening stars as I drifted to sleep. 12

The stars. Masses of gas sizzling millions of miles away. I’d always been mesmerized by the twinkling pinpoints of light, and even more so once I discovered that they weren’t just the flecks of paint that had dripped form the huge paintbrush of The Man Whom Painted the Moon (I know it’s not grammatically correct, but I was little; what did I know?), my childhood imaginary friend. 13

“Carly?” 14

I heard a faint murmur, muffled by the grass pressing onto my sister’s face. 15

“I love you.” 16

“What?” She sat straight up and stared at me with wild eyes. 17

“I said I love you, Carly.” 18

“Well, don’t. That’s mushy. I don’t like people who get all mushy.” She glared at me. 19

“Well, excuse _me_!” I snapped. She nestled herself back among the blades of grass. Minutes passed, neither of us speaking. 20

Then the faintest trace of a whisper issued from the lump beside me. 21

“What was that?” I mumbled, fearing a long session of detailed ranting about how gross mushiness was. 22

“I love you, too!” she growled. 23

“Oh. Good night, Carly. And thank you.” 24

“Night.” 25

I rolled over to find a more comfortable position, the kind of position that, when your body is in it, sort of hugs you and engulfs you in slumber. 26

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt like I had it all in life- a grouchy but gold-hearted sister, a mound of leaves, a cloudless, star-strewn night. What more could one person want? 27