50 shades of failure

Quietly, I was walking along the maple wood of the cherry-coloured trees, leaves migrating between each singular trunk, collapsing forward. My goal was to get home before night dips and scars me, hopefully I could make it. Holding my rubbered sketchbook, filled with gray outlines of autumn-styled cottages, I strolled through the outdoor gardens into the place I meet nearly every night. The hill. The specific hill outside my school. During my time here, many different things were experienced right on this piece of grassy land. Wow. I squealed as I felt my black beanie nearly fall off onto the grey rock road, making it dirty. Caught it just in time.