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An average autumn day
The day was nice, a warm sunny afternoon, an average day. The silent trees as far as the eye can see. I was sitting on the same worn, wooden bench that I always did, looking at the same sight, the beautiful swaying trees, but today the leaves were turning yellow, orange, and red. Autumn already, I thought to myself, I guess time really does fly, I thought it was still summer. To my left was my dog Hail, white as snow, normally sitting with me every day looking at the same view for ten minutes, barking at me. But then, I caught a whiff of what smelled like something burning, and as I look around me, everything was on fire. the grass, the trees, and a little bit of the bench. As I run, someone pushes me to the ground, and as I wail in desperation, I realize that it was too late, as my voice gets drowned out in the crowd, the fire slowly coming closer. Why did it have to be on fire today, I thought to myself, why did everything have to change?
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In this story I was trying to use symbolism and descriptive language.