The Colour Of Autumnm Adelaide McKenzie stood barefoot, a small dot in the vast countryside. This was her haven, her home. The wind was still a gentle breeze and the sky a fabled shade of amber. It was, she thought, the colour of autumn. Looking around, she saw the modest wooden cabin that her grandfather had spent his final days and a place that she wished she had been able to visit before. She yearned for a connection with him; one that felt so tangible, so close here by the cabin. It was hard for her to reconcile with the fact that she had never been here. This image before her was built from pictures she had seen and stories she had heard. She knew this, but it did not detract from the sanctity of the place, nor how strong it made her feel. The amber of the sky was fast becoming a vivid red and the wind became altogether more sinister. She moved the hair from her face, her brunette curls obscuring her vision of the wooden refuge. Adelaide began to make her way to the cabin. Rain began to fall and the winds carried echoes of an approaching thunder, it was happening again. She prayed to the Gods that she would make it to the cabin this time, but she knew in her heart that there would be no difference between now and her usual dreams.