Viktor woke up when the sun was shining brightly outside the window. For the first time in a month, the writer had slept well and now felt completely refreshed and even cheerful. He pulled back the dusty curtain, threw open the window wide, and let the cool air of the autumn forest into the house. From somewhere above, an autumn leaf gently descended onto the windowsill with a barely audible rustle. Viktor smiled and didn't bother to remove it.
Suddenly, the writer's gaze fell upon a cardboard box under the table, tied with tape. He remembered what was inside. Searching for scissors but not finding them, he tore off the tape with his hands and took out an old typewriter from the box. Friends had once given it to Viktor as a gift for some holiday. It was more symbolic and playful than practical. Nevertheless, now the writer placed the ancient device on the table, inserted a clean sheet of paper, adjusted the tangled ribbon, and, thoughtfully looking out the window, began typing.
At first, he stumbled frequently, muttering curses as he confused letters or pressed them too lightly due to unfamiliarity, but then the process completely absorbed him. The clatter of the typewriter, escaping through the open window, seemed to tremble in the clear and cool autumn air, spreading far into the forest.
Natalia sat alone on a bench. Several times she tried to take her mobile phone and call someone, but the display stopped her with the message "No network." The girl listened to the sounds in the forest silence and smiled slightly. Somewhere behind her, a cheerful children's cry rang out. She turned around and saw a family strolling a little further away. Apparently, city dwellers who had decided to go on a picnic during the last warm days of autumn.
Leaving her parents behind and breaking free, a girl about ten years old was playing in the autumn leaves. She cheerfully grabbed handfuls of yellow leaves with her little hands, tossed them high into the air above her head, and laughed heartily. Natalia was even somewhat surprised that modern children were still capable of such primal joy. Unexpectedly, the girl herself reached for her camera and, looking at the playing child through the viewfinder, took several pictures.
However, jumping in the leaves soon became boring for the girl. She began searching something in her jacket pockets and pulled out a smartphone. Still watching this through her camera, Natalia suddenly felt sad, but then something completely unexpected happened. The girl suddenly picked up a small pine cone from the ground, placed it on a stump, and took a photograph.
* * *
Viktor mechanically checked the last paragraph of the text, added a couple of blank lines, printed the date, and contentedly closed the laptop lid. This time it turned out simply wonderful: he, she, autumn… Certainly, he had never written so well before. Readers would be delighted. If only they knew... The writer smiled, then threw an old windbreaker over himself and went for a walk in the autumn forest.