
“You can’t go out like that,” yelled Rebecca from the doorway as I was heading out.
It was late fall. The air had turned crisp and the leaves began their descent to cover lawns, roadways and forest floors.
“I shalln’t be gone long.”
“Shalln’t? Going on an adventure Mr. Frodo?” she said mockingly.
I just smiled and touched the side of my nose.
It was not yesterday I learned to know the love of bare November days. Before the coming of snow and grey skies. You had to take the opportunities when you could for a walk about especially when you had advanced in age.
I met with Mildred at the corner of Bartlett Street downtown. We walked together to get pastries and hot chocolate. It was the last time we would have these walks and shared time together before the winter snows came.
This is for a dVerse prompt: Write a piece of flash fiction (NOT a poem) of up to or exactly 144 words, including the given line in the order in which it has been given. You may add or change punctuation, but you may not add words in between the given ones.
The line:
“Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow”
The line made me think of endings. And I wrote this to have a complete story to contribute.
I had earlier written the piece below.
Cold November Days

It was not yesterday I learned to know the love of bare November days. Before the coming of snow and the loss of leaves. As a child in Miami when November days could still be filled with visits to the beach and bikinis, moving to Rochester, NY was more than culture shock, it was culture electrocution. I was here to get my PhD, a piece of paper that would put MD at the end of my name. Could I be the doctor to heal my broken life? That remained to be seen. Being a single mother, a student and broke weren’t helping in the healing process but temporary pain for longer term gain was the plan. Being a parent was a bright spot. He was how I learned to love cold Rochester November days. He was able to adapt and thrive in the cold.
This idea for this writing came from parts of my past, I lived in Rochester while my mom was a student there. Though not autobiographical it does take it’s general theme from that time.
Each post is 144 words and incorporates the prompt line.











