The Red Dry Leaves

Autumn.
Dawn.
Red Dry leaves.
The Moonlight kissed the street and she appeared among a rain of red dry leaves. Probably she was singing a song; maybe she had blue on her brown eyes.
Loafing, She laughs, Loafing, He drinks. Loafing, the leaves brought fine cares, when all the things are new and the entire world is sensitive.
Keys.
Door.
Room.
They were just hands and kiss, bed and sheet, hips and arms, lips and moans. It was 5 a.m. and he slept, while she stood on the left side of the bed. She was extremely tired; she had red lips, red nails, red thoughts. She had a mirror on a dressing table in front of her, a mirror which had never reflected her before; She looked around that unknown room and smiled when she laid her eyes upon that unknown face sleeping like a child on the bed. The walls had a suburban smell and the first rays of sun were crossing the curtains and everything she could see were painted by morning colors.
The night was about to go out and the morning was singing the autumn song.
She dressed her fine black stockings, then the skirt and the blouse. On the table near the keys and the empty bottle of wine were the cigarettes. She lit one. On the cigarette box was a little post it, saying “The money in the wallet is yours” she took his wallet in the coat pocket and she paid herself.
Keys.
Door.
Street.
The car drivers were blowing the horns, people were walking and the sun started to shine. “Just one more day and that will be enough” she thought. How many thoughts haunted her mind before she got home? She needed go on, she must go on, step by step she walked home.