This one is about am old story world I used to think about. I'm so bored I started to write more of it, but can't seem to get anywhere.

The sun shined bright oranges and reds, rising slower than its bright blue sister, trudging like a child out of sleep up into the sky. Clint smiled at the thin wall of black birch trees, standing on the edge of his front yard, their leaves turned from ivory yellows and greens to rose tinted organes or grey edged browns. The soft winds carried the sweet smell of the dying summer and woodsy sap from mapled oaks storing their syrup for the winter. Clint sat down on a stone bench, its grey stones holding fading carvings of birds flying high over a massive sunflower plain, swirling into a spiral designed, summer sun. The legs of the bench soon carved away to only the swirling metal skeleton holding most of the bench together secretly, the black actual color of the metal coming visible in crooks and well used areas, its gold stained, silver paint peeling away like skin. The old, black stained, white oak wood underneath his legs groaned in annoyance, growing silent with childlike anger as they slept again in the dawn light. He put his hands on the edges of the seat as he looked out into the morning, fall sun. His honey brown eyes shined with more of a sweet, honey gold as the sun slowly rose higher. His autumn hair drifted in his face, trying to move him on to work. He looked out into the green, blue grass yard and dying flower beds surrounding the edges of the yard and house’s patio, roses fading to ugly greys and wilting with their last blooms of the summer season, small bushes leaves changing from brown to gorgeous amber reds. He put his head in his hands, smiling brighter at the young fall day. The frosted glass front door slammed open making Clint jolt straight and look at the stone steps, directly at a long, grey brown walking cane, polished and still winding like a tree limb. A worn black boot taped its toe on the ground as weight was leaned completely on that wood leg. He looked up slowly to face the person, biting his lip as he smiled as sweetly as he could at his wife. She glared fiercely with jade green eyes, her shoulder length brown hair flowed gently in the wind but never in her face. She leaned her body on her walking cane that stood taller than her, grabbing the top of it with her hand she used it to help her walk down the steps.
Looking at her worried, Clint stood up, “Don’t even think about helping me!” She glared at him, hopping off the first step and leaning on her foot before sitting on the bench, lightly kicking her other leg under the seat.
Looking away from him and at the small, dirt walkway to the back yard, just laying on the ground next to the side of the house. Clint sat down again and put his hand on her thigh, smiling weakly as he tried to calm her down since she looked like she was mad for her usual reason, “Conna sweetie, what’s wrong?”
“What do you think is wrong Clint!” She shot a glare at him causing him to flinch, “You’re out here and you’re late to harvesting again! Do you want us to lose money, you do this every year!”
He looked down like a child when scolded, “I’m sorry honey… I can’t help it, the season looks so beautiful…”
Sighing Conna stood up and limped over to the dirt walkway, “If you are sorry then get to work already. I want to try and get done before the sun sets, and hopefully I can cook before the moon rises.”
Nodding he stood up, looking at the front yard one last time as she rounded the corner of the house. She growled to herself already knowing what he was doing. “CLINT!”
He flinched again and jogged to her in the back garden, “Sorry!”
The garden was massive, larger than the house yet the house blocks the whole view of it. The edges of the garden bed was walled off by emerald green blue grass standing tall and happily. The soft, honey dewed grass barely swayed in the wind because of how thick the blades had grown, they guarded the plush, rich brown dirt bed from the wind and even collected water for weeks after a rainy day, just dropping the perfect amount in the form of morning dew droplets. Slightly farther down the bed laid countless rows of summer fruits, vegetables, and even buried nuts or edible flowers used for spices, each growing in the row but giving the illusion of a colorful maze. All of the greens, golds, blues, and rich violet reds seeming to melt into one another through winding leaves, vines, and above ground roots that bloomed with the last of their vibrant flowers. Clint smiled at the garden, his honey brown eyes nearly glowing more with its sticky gold coloring at the thought of taking care of his plants again, but this time, for their last moment of their short lives. He could even sense Conna was calming down at the thought of working, looking over at her he could see her pale pink lips curved in a faint smile. Something wasn’t quite right though, her jade eyes never glowed like they always did, her smile was faint but more faint than all the other times she wanted to hide her joy when she was starting to feel less angry, she even leaned more on her walking cane instead of pulling away from it like she always did since she hated needing something to help her walk. He cocked his head, looking at her fully worried, “Conna, is something wrong?”
Conna frowned and looked at him confused, staring right into his eyes, unlike normal. “I’m fine, why would you think that dear?”
He looked back to the garden, shaking his head, “You aren’t acting like yourself again…”
She sighed softly looking out into the garden smiling weakly, “Let’s just get to work, Clinty. I want to get done on time for once, maybe it’s just the stress of the season getting to me.You should know yourself since the crystal fruits take all season to grow.”
Clint looks back at her shocked and annoyed, slouching his shoulders as he whined like a puppy, “Not those again! They take so much perfect care and time! Do we have to cycle with those every time Conna?”
She put her hands on her hips, her stick in the crook of her elbow. Glaring at him with a parent like scold she spoke in her low chest voice, “Yes! If we got our work done on time we would have enough money to cycling our crops with others, but we don’t because someone doesn’t think of his job like he should! Now quit wasting time and start harvesting already, we’re later than normal!”
The sun began to sink, drenching the sky in blood red with dusty pinks and royal violets melting in and around the sun. Clint stood back up on aching legs from kneeling down for hours on end, picking crops and uprooting them before they died causing the soil to get ruined. He rubbed his calves as he looked around for Conna, she was walking back to the house with the last basket full of crops they were going to sell but hasn’t came back. It normally only took her a few minutes but the last few trips have been taking more time than the last. Grabbing the small hand full of apple shaped peppers he walked shakily back to the front of the house. Standing on the stone patio he watched the cold wind blow most of the dead leaves off the dark birch trees, it was the first time in awhile he was able to watch the sun set. He wasn’t too fond of the blood red in the sky however. It was too close to the shade the blood moon paints the sky every four years, along with the silent winds made the air so stiff and barely breathable, too much like the days under the blood moon. Clint shivered, for once in his life he actually wanted to just stay inside for the rest of the sunset. Walking up the stone steps he struggled to open the frost glass door, having a hard time trying not to let the peppers fall out of his hands. Gently pushing the door open with his foot he set the peppers in the large basket next to the door, the basket colorfully decorated with plants from the garden. Closing the door he looked around the surprisingly dark living room, the dark brown fur couch seemed black in the faint light, the pale wooden coffee table growing more pale in the last of the sun's light, the dull grey fur carpet turning into a black, fuzzy void. Kicking his boots off he walked across the carpet to the glazed, black granite floor of the kitchen, looking at the rich brown oak, round dining table he looked at the blech white glass plates. Especially at that third plate sitting across from Conna’s and his. He finally looked at Conna, watching her hands carefully and quickly cut a gold skinned cucumber into thin slices, putting the slices in crystal glasses full of ice. The ice instantly melting on contact to the cucumber slices, the water turning a faint, sparkly gold. She turned around as she grabbed the glasses, smiling innocently at Clint while holding out the glasses to him. He looked at her suspiciously, walking over and grabbing the glasses he placed them gently on the table.
“Who’s coming over?” He talked calmly hoping it wasn’t who he thought it was. Her...
Conna pulled out roasted meat that looked like ham but had more of a woodsy rosemary smell unlike it. Tucking her hair behind her ear she looked back at him, cocking her head as she placed the meat on top of the black, steel stove, “Hm?”
Clint sat down at his seat, the light brown chair, covered in flowery carvings, groaned quietly. He looked at the extra plate sitting right across from him. Sighing he looked back at her with eyes full of dull browns and golds, “She coming over, isn’t she?...”
Conna looked down pulling hair behind her ear, “I tried to keep you out there for the amount of time she was going to stay, and eat dinner late with you again. I know how much you don’t like my mother, even I don’t have much about her that I’m fond of. But even when I left to hurry up and cook you got done on time for once.”
“Why does she have to come over? She came over last year too, but not another three years after that. Is she going to be-”
“Clint! Quit acting like a child and get over it! -She sighs, looking back down-Honestly… She’s coming over this year because I asked her to, I have a few things I wanted to tell her. But not you.”
His eyes widened, looking at her with fear and sadness,”Conna…”
She shakes her head as she looks up at him with a blank stare, no emotion in her eyes. No emotion in her voice. “I need something from her that I can't get from you… please understand Clint, she's my mother. Even if she's harsh she is still a caring person. Besides that she knows more and knows what to do… unlike us… Don't get sad dear, it would only make this worse…”
Clint sighs and nods weakly, “Alright… I just wish you told me about this while you were planning it. Can you at least tell me what the problem is?” He cocks his head as he gives her puppy eyes. A childish way to beg but it is the only thing he had that breaks through her stubborn shield.
Conna looked down and shakes her head quickly, her hands grabbing at her pants tightly to help her focus. “I'm sorry Clint, but I can't say. Maybe later if there's something I can do about it.”