Prompt: Describe briefly a lake or a backcountry mountain trail (in other words, a beautiful natural setting) as seen by a person who has just lost a parent in a sudden, unexpected death. The last time this narrator saw the parent, they argued violently. In your narrative do not mention the death, the parent, or the argument. Do not tell a story. Simply show us what the lake or forest or street looks like to someone under these circumstances. 500 words.

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The evening light struggled through the woods. It pushed through the rows of oak and elm, over the fallen leaves and dead twigs and the occasional raccoon out gathering. It bounced off the shore of the lake, scattering tiny reflections over the ripples of the cold water. Autumn had arrived early that year, and the lake was already going dormant. Bluegill and bass swam closer to the bottom, seeking out warmth and shelter among the catfish in the sunken cars along the bottom of the lake.

The dock creaked in the wind coming off the lake. A few leaves jumped up from the rake piles, flipping into the air before landing silently on the surface of the water, creating only the slightest ripple. The smell of burning leaves floated down from the pavilions where the groundskeeper was working. Crickets chirped quietly. Cicadas buzzed.

Across the lake small campfires broke out among the trees, campers enjoying the early arrival of the cool weather. Rocks littered the slope from the campgrounds down to the surface of the lake. A few children played along the top of the slope, occasionally throwing small rocks into the lake. Hotdogs and marshmallows roasted over several of the small campfires, the smell rolling down to the kids near the slope, making them run back to their families around the fires.

The trees near the dock shivered as the evening light fell back across the lake, back towards the campfires, and then past them over the woods and finally the horizon. In the dark the cicadas became louder. The air felt numbing. The lake was silent.

Fireflies appeared up around the pavilion. Their tiny lights puncturing the dark, only to disappear a moment later before reappearing again somewhere new. More fireflies appeared in response, gathering until the area around the pavilion appeared to be sparking quietly. Behind the pavilion the parking lot lights kicked on, buzzing loudly and flooding the parking lot with a harsh yellow light. Moths buzzed around the bulbs of the lights, completely lost within a pointless orbit. They stayed close to the light, occasionally a single moth would make an erratic turn and flit off into the dark into parts and fates unknown, never to be singled out again.

The trashcan by the center light pole overflowed with garbage. Fast food bags spilled out the top and loose soda cans rolled around the lot. It was nearly empty, the day campers and hikers had pulled out and fled when the light had begun to fade. A raccoon poked his head out from under the dumpster near the service road entrance. His eyes caught the light for a moment before the whole creature became a silhouette again. A smaller shadow moved behind the raccoon, a young raccoon following its mother. Together they crept along the edge of the parking lot, the mother picking up small pieces of trash and smelling them. The younger raccoon stayed close to the its mother, keeping in her shadow as they walked along the edge of the darkness.

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Prompt from The 3 AM epiphany, by Brian Kiteley. Available on Amazon.com