Tears froze on Winter’s cheeks as he clung to Fall’s limp hand. She smelled like decaying leaves, overripe apples, cold rain. “Don’t go,” he whispered.
Fall’s smile was sunlight on ripe fields. “You won’t miss me.”
“You’ll bury the world in snow. Revel in your isolation. When you grow lonely, make a daughter, as I made you, as Summer made me.”
“I hate this cycle.”
Frost spread from Winter’s fingers, ravaged Fall’s golden skin. He jerked away. “I always miss you.”
Fall’s eyes drifted closed. “We always meet again.”
Winter walked away, and ice formed in his footprints.
Author’s Note: It was cold and snowy when I wrote this, and I needed to remind myself that winter doesn’t last forever.