Witch Weather

• Catherine O'brien, Grade 10, St Mary Mackillop College -
• Short Story
• 2020

Excellence Award in the 'The Inside Story 2020' competition

The heat of summer presses down upon her and she immediately wishes she was somewhere else. She has always hated summer, with the oppressive heat and the dried out feeling it gave her. Winter was no better. The frosts were pretty, but the wind was always biting and unfriendly.
No, her favourite season has always been autumn. When the trees are on fire and the weather is cooler, but not numbing. And the wind—oh, the wind! It feels different to anything else she has ever felt.
She closes her eyes and the summer heat seems to fade away. She is standing in a field of grass stretching out in all directions.
A gust of autumn wind races past her, blowing her hair into her face. It gets caught in her mouth, but she ignores it as her heartbeat speeds up and she turns to face the wind. Another gust flows past and her mood lightens. The air feels electric, like a storm is near.
She laughs and spins before sprinting for a few metres. The wind pushes her along and she lets it take her where it wills. This, this is when she feels most alive.
This kind of weather awakens something old and forgotten in her blood. Her whole body itches to run, to do something. To run forever and ever, never looking back. A tingling races through her skin and she shivers in excitement, relishing in the lightheartedness that races through her.
For one fleeting moment, she feels ancient and powerful, all at once; like she has lived for thousands of years and seen the rise and fall of civilisations and empires—each one believing they would last forever. Every single one of them was wrong.
She is the eternal one. She has lived for longer than anyone can even dream of. She has known heartbreak and sadness but joy and love too. And in that moment, nothing is holding her back. She is wild and strong and free.
But she opens her eyes, and—it’s gone. The exhilaration fades, and she is back in the real world. The sun is glaring down at her again and the wind she loves so much has vanished. She is back to the same boring life she’s always had.
She isn’t thousands of years old. She isn’t going to live forever. She is simply human, with a lifespan so short that it seems like a mayfly.
One short day, and then it is all over.