A very Short Story

The leaves have begun to fall today. Or perhaps I have begun to notice the falling leaves today. The sky is gray. The sky is gray and I have begun to notice, that the leaves are falling. I nod at the seventy-year old man sweeping his porch. “So many leaves are falling today,” he says and resumes to look down before I can say anything back.

What’s inside the briefcase? Inside the briefcase is a stack of papers. What kind of papers? The kind you’d put inside a briefcase. Have you been working on another story, Henry? I am always working on another story. Can I see it?

I set down my briefcase and sit down, across from Jeanie. She’s takes a sip of her coffee with milk and cinnamon. Jeanie Mathis is my agent. I like having her as my agent. She cares for me like a midwife and anything she wants done, she gets done; albeit by always asking a headache-load of questions. “Would you also like a coffee? Have you had any breakfast yet?”

“I’ll have a coffee with milk and cinnamon. And, yes, I’ve had breakfast.”

“Good, good.”

Five minutes later, Jeanie brings back my coffee and another one for herself.

“Now tell me, what have you been working on?”

“I wrote a few lines about falling leaves.”

“Go on…”

“…”

“So, falling leaves you say? Think there’s a good story in there somewhere?”

“I do.”

“When can I have it?”