It’s fall, and nature is strutting her stuff. “Look at me,” says the tree; “Carve me,” says the pumpkin; “Press me,” says the apple. I close my eyes, remembering the smell of burning leaves, the chill air filled with excitement—as though tomorrow I’ll be shopping for brand-new school shoes.

A prolific writer, Carol Reeves is loving the freedom and challenges of 50 word stories. Her memoir, “All the Little Miracles,” was published last year. She often writes of the privilege and vicissitudes of aging.