She had never noticed the small tree with the red leaves just around the corner – couldn’t say whether the leaves were red all year or only turned so in autumn. It was only the kids playing on their scooters one morning that drew her attention. Then she forgot about it again. The following day it was stormy as she headed to the shops. Rocked by gusts of wind, the tree was hurling its leaves to the ground in showers. An hour later its branches were bare, the pavement crimson. Things fall down, she reminded herself, even as you look elsewhere.
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