[1999-02-08]
The leaf danced in the wind. It took a leap here and there, performing a
strange sort of ballet, with a secret language of form and rhythm. It had
no conceivable pattern in its moves, nothing predictable in its
behaviour. The wind sometimes lifted it several decimeters up in the
air, only to be followed a moment later by total stillness.
Hopping and skipping down the alley, the leaf raced in a happy manner,
its orange-red colours a spark of joy in the grey autumn weather. Then
suddenly, its voyage took an abrupt end, as it fell down into the
sewers.
As if a token of grief, the sky suddenly began to cry. But down in the
sewers, the leaf began its journey again, towards an unknown future, in
an unexplored country.
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