It's Late autumn now. the air crisp, and wet. leaves in vibrant colours. And frost
I'm 7 years old and I go walking with my mom every morning I can here the air wisper against my ears I see a bunny its fur as soft as the soon to be snow it's eyes searching around the fog I can see my mom up ahead she dosent notice I'm not beside her were near the bridge the old brick still sound I know I should catch up but the bunny I try to go by the edge of the rock but it's slippery and I fall tumbling down I hear a loud crack and when I gasp my last breath of air I hear my mom " baby, baby were are you."
