Fall: Daniele Colucci for Unsplash
My City
By Jakki Licare
As the magical city, Vignette, readies itself for its fall show, chimneys puff gold, brown, and red smoke against the canvas of the sky. The city’s nervousness skitters through my veins as I shove the last log in.
“Don’t be nervous,” I say. A mournful puff of smoke escapes the fireplace. “You’ll be spectacular, as always.”
Soon, Vignette’s trees will explode their colorful leaves skyward, while pumpkins will swell until they’re building-sized. Street lamps will twinkle and fountains will mist autumnal rainbows, a fall painting created by the city itself.
I wish Vignette luck, grabbing my sketchbook as I exit. I wade through the crowd, heading for an alleyway which will frame this fall’s show perfectly. The city’s jitters make my heart tremble, but then the flutter turns into a stabbing pain. I clutch my chest. What’s happening? I’m magically tied to Vignette, I can’t get sick.
Using the wall for support, I stumble down the cobblestone alleyway where a single lantern glows. I yelp when my hand sinks into the wall. The slimy colors ooze down my fingertips. Touching the wall again, my hand dips in as if the brick has rotted away.
Is Vignette sick?
Am I?
