Ah, here I was again.

Hanging on my beloved tree with my fellow leaf companions, a harsh storm swirling past us. I never liked storms. I always had to hold on for my dear life, fearing of getting carried away by the wind blows.

Beside me I felt the other leafs being just as afraid as I was. We couldn‘t talk, see, nor smell. We couldn‘t do anything beside feel the harsh conditions of the weather and hear our own thoughts. Atleast I always thought that the other leafs could so too. Or was I the only one? I would probably never find out.

Besides, it wouldn‘t quite matter if I fell down right now or not. By autumn we will all have fallen anyway. Leafs didn‘t really have a happy life, I realize. We just hang here, waiting for the seasons to change. Did we even have a purpose or were we there so the tree didn‘t feel naked? Did the tree even have it‘s own thoughts?

And at last, I was thinking about the most random stuff a leaf could think about until the storm has calmed down. Today I didn‘t fall down to the ground. Maybe my companions have, maybe not. Again, I will never know.

In the end I‘m just a single leaf on a tree in the middle of nowhere.