The Red Leaf

The Red Leaf

         The sky turned as cold and steely gray as the headstone in front of him. He should have been better for her. He should have been a better father. There must have been more he could have done. Somehow, time, the demands of the job, and the pain of her cancer, he'd felt he'd become more isolated.
         He remembered back to a fall day, the leaves turning colors, she was only four. She was awestruck by them. He told her she was more beautiful than all them, as he'd bundled the blankets around her. “Well not the red ones Daddy, they're the prettiest ever!”, She replied. “Oh yes you are! Why the reds ones are the ones most envious of you Sweetheart!”, he had laughed with a tightened chest and choking in his throat.
         The winter trees now shimmered in his watery vision. He held her little doll tightly to his chest, then placed it back upon her stone weeping, a man alone, guilt ridden, and inconsolable. Could he have done more or better? Did she know how much he loved her in life as he did now? Did she know? Could she know?
         The rain bought him back out of his personal abyss as he unlocked the car. Then staring in disbelief he saw it. There upon the newspaper in the passenger seat, her seat, was a single perfectly shaped red leaf which had not been there before, and he suddenly knew, she indeed did know.

Word count: 250 with title